She's Not There
by MyVikingBoyfriend
Summary: TB canon fic set between seasons 3 and 4. What happened when Eric realized he could no longer feel his connection with Sookie? Romance/Drama, rated M for language only because Eric and especially Pam have filthy mouths. E/S, EPOV
1. She's Not There

**A/N: This is my first TB fanfic and was inspired by what I like to think was going on with Eric in the 12 ½ months that Sookie was in the fairy realm. Begins just after True Blood 3.12 (**_**Evil is Going On**_**) and will end partway through 4.2 (**_**You Smell Like Dinner**_**.) If I owned 'em, there would have been no threesome scenes, but this is still set within show canon, so if you didn't see it on screen, it's my speculation about what how things got from point A to point B. Expect a whole lot of fanwanking and only a whiff of lemon in the air, since half of our pair is somewhere else for most of the fic. I fully expect this to get Jossed by the time the season 4 blu-ray comes out since they are promising more detail on events during this period, so enjoy it while you can. Thanks for reading. **

**Chapter 1: She's Not There**

I was in a cooling tub of vinegar-infused water, methodically scaling away the cement still caked into my skin and hair, when my bond with Sookie vanished: not sharply, but with a gentle, quick fading, like the sun's last rays finally slipping below the horizon at sunset. The betrayal and sorrow that had throbbed painfully through our connection for the past hour shivered and fell still.

I stopped, my grip tightening on the sponge in my hand.

I waited.

When thirty seconds had passed without any renewed sense of Sookie, I shot out of the water.

I would have been halfway to Bon Temps naked and wet if Pam, who had been doing "emergency repair" on her nails after her own encounter with the cement, hadn't blurted out, "What the _fuck_, Eric?" as I vamp sped out of the private bathroom beside my office.

"Sookie's gone. " I paused, dripping beads of bath water on the floor and with some cement grit still clinging to my skin.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Pam grumbled in exasperation. "Barely an hour later and her precious little fairy ass is already in trouble again? '_Gone' _how?"

"Our blood bond has broken. " Reluctant to waste time describing the qualitative strangeness of _how_ the bond had vanished, I said pointedly, "You know how valuable Sookie is. I need to know what's happened to her." And I needed to know it _now_. _Dead. She could be dead. _The fear was thrumming in me.

Pam shot me an arch look. "And doing so naked plays into this how? Not that I disagree that you should _check into it—"_ Pam emphasized the point by twirling her nail polish brush into the air towards me. "— but unless you're planning on _fucking_ the answer out of someone, I don't know why you can't put some clothes on first. At least make it a _little _harder to stake you."

Her tone may have been facetious but I could feel the genuine worry through our bond. She was disturbed by my uncharacteristically flustered condition.

Hell, so was I.

From the moment I had told Sookie the truth about her former lover on the porch of her house, I had sensed her betrayal and grief pulsing through our connection like an almost physical ache. I regretted having caused her pain, although I could not – _would not_ – regret having told her the truth about Bill Compton.

Still, the actual experience of her pain had been more difficult than I had expected. Her hurt had been relentless as I had sailed through the night sky towards Shreveport and her rawness had continued to chafe at me as I drew my bath and settled in for the tedious process of cement removal. For 1,000 years I had dreamed of having my vengeance for my family's murder. I should have been _exhilarated_ now that I had it. Instead, the mix of Sookie's emotional pain and my physical discomfort had put me in a grim mood.

I should have been relieved when the flow of Sookie's heartrending emotion finally stopped.

Instead, when the bond had fallen quiet, I felt like some vital part of me was suddenly missing. An infuriating, intriguing, telepath-fairy-waitress-shaped part.

And now I was feeling fear and that response was all my own.

God, I hated feelings. Hated feeling. Whichever.

"If the bond is broken, Eric, you have to know what that may mean." Pam was clearly reluctant to state the obvious, but forged on, her voice softening as she tried to reason with me. "If Sookie is dead, rushing into potential battle _unprepared_ isn't going to help her. Or you."

Even if she was dead _(nonono)_, I had to find her. To know.

Sensitive to my determination, Pam finally pursed her lips unhappily before continuing with resignation. "If you really _must _do this, at least do it sensibly. I've already nearly lost you once tonight." I could feel her apprehension rippling through our bond and felt a pang of remorse that I hadn't even thought about that in my rush to find Sookie.

It was tremendously annoying to acknowledge it, but my ever-practical progeny was right. Of course, her intelligence was one reason I had chosen her.

"Fine," I acquiesced and bolted to grab clothes.

Mere moments later and now "decently" dressed in jeans, boots, tank and leather jacket, I blasted into the sky to look for Sookie, consciously tuning out Pam's lingering worry.

Now if I could only block out my own emotions.

**~*E&S*~**

It was strange not to feel where Sookie was.

Ever since Dallas, my blood inside her had quietly but persistently let me know exactly where she was at all times. It had been a surprisingly pleasant little humming buzz in the background of my consciousness and over the short period that we had been linked, that tingle of awareness had become unexpectedly soothing. I had experienced Sookie's emotions ebbing and flowing like tides and although I had not known many joyful moods from her during that time – the girl had had a rough few weeks between the maenad and Russell Edgington – being connected to her so intimately had been strangely gratifying.

In comparison, the emotional void left by the silenced bond was frustrating as fuck.

My plan was to start my search at Sookie's house, where I had last seen her. But as I approached the Bon Temp farmhouse by air, I was distracted by a tantalizing aroma carried on the wind. Diverting towards its source, which turned out to be the cemetery between Sookie's home and Bill's, I flew in closer.

I slipped into the shadows of the tree line, taking care to stay out of sight until I had confirmed that no one else was in the graveyard. Hovering in the dark, I breathed the intoxicating scent in deeply, concentrating on the nuances.

It was a fascinatingly sweet bouquet, a mixture of slightly varying individual fragrances that shared similar notes of honey and fresh grain.

And Sookie.

I could smell her unique signature, like a subtle under note, nearly overwhelmed by about half a dozen – no, seven – more powerful scents.

Cautiously, I touched down on the grass and sniffed my way among the graves. All the individual scents – What the fuck _were _they? They were mind-blowingly intoxicating – had coalesced into a single locus on the gravel path that led through the grounds. I closed my eyes and sucked the fragrant air in hungrily.

Whatever the smell was, it was making me hard. And involuntarily giddy with excitement, almost dizzying in its intensity.

Fuck.

I shook my head to clear it and focused resolutely on pinpointing Sookie's trace among the bevy of olfactory enticements. Her distinctive track meandered away from the seductive vapor hanging in the air, took a detour to what appeared to be her grandmother's grave, and then led back towards her house. All along the way, I looked for and sniffed for blood or other signs of violence, but there was nothing like that in Sookie's trail.

I followed it all the way to her front porch. The lights in the house were ablaze, but I didn't sense anyone inside or smell anything unusual.

As I stood in front of Sookie's front door, I hesitated.

"_Go back to hell where you came from, you fucking undead piece of shit!"_

In my mind's eye, I saw her tear-stained face as she had taken out her disappointment and misery over Bill's perfidy on me.

When Sookie had ordered me out of her life earlier in the evening, she had not actually rescinded my invitation to her home. I had left of my own accord, although I could not be certain she had realized that in her anguish.

I wasn't about to point it out to her. I had few enough strategic advantages in dealing with her as it was.

She wouldn't have been happy for me to come back into her home, but I had to search the house. She could yell at me later, when she was safely returned.

I know it was irrational, but as I opened the door to her home, I called out her name. "Sookie?"

I had had a momentary flicker of hope that somehow, someway, the bond was just "disconnected." That she would pop out of one of the rooms in the shabby farmhouse and screech at me (again) to get the fuck out of her house. But the house remained silent.

I searched every room without discovering anything except that Sookie's house had not recovered from that maenad bitch. While Sookie had made some progress in cleaning the most public rooms, others were still thoroughly trashed and mud-covered.

I guess if you don't have a cadre of glamoured humans to clean up after you, you have to do it yourself. When you can. When you're not working. Or trying to track down your kidnapped boyfriend in Mississippi. Or being held prisoner by some fucking vengeance-driven vampire like me.

Slamming the door shut behind me, I searched the exterior perimeter of the house before dropping down onto Sookie's front steps to think.

There were no signs of violence; no blood; no odor of death. And as I thought back to the feelings that had been pulsing through the bond just before it stopped, fear had not been among them. Whatever had happened to Sookie, she did not seem to have been hurt in the process. My own fear calmed somewhat.

She appeared to have vanished from the cemetery where her scent trail had gone cold. Gone with a bunch of someones that smelled damned fabulous, although whether gone by coercion or by her own choice, I couldn't tell. I suppose they could have killed her, but if they had, their methods of body disposal were superior to anything I was aware of.

For the first time since I had felt the bond vanish I started to hope that she was still alive.

I had told Russell Edgington that Sookie's fairy blood had gone undetected because she was a hybrid descendent of the fae, but I never once thought that there might still be full-blooded fairies in the human world. Russell had lived three times as long as I had and never encountered a single fairy, which made them as mythological as unicorns.

But what other reasonable explanation was there for the array of alluring smells that lingered in the cemetery? Especially since only Sookie's scent was detectable outside the burial ground – the sources of those other alluring fragrances had apparently appeared and disappeared on a relatively small patch of ground.

_Sookie had been taken by fucking fairies_: as insane as it would have sounded to me a few days before, it was the theory with the strongest evidence. Russell was safely encased in concrete, I hadn't caught a whiff of Sophie-Anne (or what Russell had accurately characterized as her overstated perfume) in the cemetery, Bill was probably holed up somewhere dealing with the consequences of his deceit, and if wolves had taken Sookie, the air would have reeked instead of smelled so sweet.

Speaking of which, the intoxicating scent of what I now believed to be fairy had begun to fade, dissipated by the autumn breeze.

I also noticed vaguely that some parts of my skin – those still rimed with dried cement – were beginning to sting as if burned. Studying a cement-smudged crease between my fingers, I could see blisters forming. Great. I fleetingly wished killing Bill for what he had done to me in dumping me into that construction site had been option, but even as Pam had helped pull me out of the mucky cement, I had known that Sookie would never have forgiven me if I had. I normally wouldn't have a lot of patience with Bill Compton, but the stakes were high in this game. I could tolerate a lot of bullshit from the younger vampire if it meant earning Sookie's trust in the long run.

Tuning out the mildly increased pain of my skin, I pondered what to do next. With no idea where the goddamn fairies would have taken Sookie, I was stuck. She could be anywhere, including some plane of existence that could only be accessed by magic.

Magic I didn't have. Sookie magic.

With a sigh, I leaned forward on the steps, about to rise and launch myself into the air to go home, when Bill appeared suddenly in front of me. Because of Sookie's revoked invitation, he couldn't enter the house, but the porch was still fair territory. Any remote suspicion that he might have had anything to do with Sookie's disappearance vanished the moment he grabbed the front of my jacket and bellowed into my face, fully fanged, "_Where. Is. Sookie_?"

Bill and I have had our differences over the years, but even he wouldn't normally have been stupid enough to get in my face like that. He had to be acting out of desperation – not that I had much sympathy for his feelings.

Bill's hair was damp, as if he had just gotten out of a shower, but underneath the odor of soap, he smelled strongly of Sophie-Anne, Nan Flanagan and several humans. What he didn't smell of was fairy. Any hint of contact with Sookie was older, buried under all those newer scents.

If I had actually believed he had anything to do with Sookie's disappearance, I suddenly realized, I would have killed him, consequences be damned. His remains could easily have found their home with some recently added occupant of the conveniently nearby cemetery, just like Russell's werewolf before him.

Fortunately for Bill, I was not as impulsive and illogical as he tended to be where Sookie was concerned. _Well, not normally_. For the moment, I was giving him the benefit of the doubt and sticking with the fae abduction theory. Not that I felt any compulsion to share that theory with him. Let him figure out what had happened to Sookie for himself.

Ignoring the impulse to rip his arms off for laying hands on me, I instead went on the verbal offensive.

"Maybe I should be asking you that, Bill. Does Sophie-Anne have anything to do with the silencing of my blood bond with Sookie?" Petty of me, I know, but I enjoyed reminding him that he wasn't the only one to feel Sookie's every sentiment. "Did you finally betray her and give her to that vapid bitch?" Rubbing a little salt in Bill's wounds made the increasing chemical burns on my own skin seem a bit more tolerable.

The faint whiff of fairy on the breeze was nearly imperceptible now, and Bill seemed too focused on me to have noticed it. I wasn't about to enlighten him, either.

Something flicked across Bill's face and he abruptly let my jacket go before straightening up. His fangs withdrew with a distinct pop and he narrowed his eye at me.

"Sophie-Anne is no more. "

Okay, _that _was a shocker. "How?" I nodded at Bill's jacket. "AVL?" That would explain the telltale aromas of Nan and a number of humans that clung to its surface.

Bill raised his chin at me defiantly. "_I _ended her."

As one of my eyebrows raised skeptically, he added begrudgingly, "Although yes, the AVL did sign off on her assassination."

I took it that "signed off" in this case really meant "helped." I could see no other way that Bill Compton could have sent the older and more powerful Sophie-Anne to her true death, except to have assistance. Significant assistance. Not that I would shed a single blood-red tear for my late sovereign.

"_Regina mortua est, vivat_ – should it be _rex _or _regina_? Who has Nan named as the new puppet regent?" I inquired dispassionately.

Bill straightened even further, his eyes burning with satisfaction.

"Why, that would be _me_," he said. "Less than an hour ago, Nan Flanagan pronounced me William Compton, King of Louisiana. " Bill tilted his head slightly to the side and his smile was smug. "You may call me 'your Majesty.'"

Well, this was an unexpected development. For once, I was truly at a loss for words. At least words I should share with my new "sovereign." Fucking Nan Flanagan and her political machinations. If Bill had the full backing of the AVL as king, I was going to have to play nicely or risk butting heads with the highest levels of the vampire power structure.

I'm not that stupid.

"And it is as _your king_ that I ask you again, Eric: _where is Sookie_?"

I put my game face on, automatically hiding my perturbation.

"I do not know, _your Majesty_." I spoke briskly, all business. "I felt the bond vanish nearly two hours ago and immediately came to see what had happened. I found the house empty, lights on, but no sign of Sookie. I have searched…_thoroughly._..inside." Bill looked unhappy that I had been able to do that, but wisely held his tongue. "There is no sign of recent violence. Sookie does not appear to have been taken from her home by force." I paused before adding a small half-truth. "I found her scent outside the house but the trail leads nowhere. There were no other clues."

Bill's face fell in disappointment as he retracted his fangs. "I was— " I could see him search for the right word. "—_preoccupied_ with Sophie-Anne and did not realize at first that Sookie was gone." He faltered. "The way the bond ended was not so sharp or jarring as I might have expected if someone had – had _harmed_ her," he said hopefully.

I couldn't blame Bill for refusing to acknowledge his implicit fear that someone had killed Sookie. If I didn't have the possibility of supernatural fairy abduction to give me a sliver of hope, Sookie's death would have remained the most logical conclusion for the severing of the bond.

He looked at me directly and said grimly, "We must find her, Eric. No matter what her feelings for me or the issues you and I have between us, we must find her."

I was silent for a moment. "Looking for her will be easier if I am still Sheriff. I would have access to greater resources." My new king was within rights to remove me from my position. It wouldn't have been a smart move – I was the oldest and most powerful vampire in Louisiana and I do have my own important allies in positions of authority – but Bill was not the most strategic of thinkers. He acted from emotion more often than not, and he certainly hated me, now more than ever.

Bill snorted. "Of course, your position _would_ be your first thought."

Pot, kettle.

I could see the wheels turning as he considered his options.

"On the other hand, if I am relieved as my duties as Sheriff, I could devote that much more time to pursuing Sookie," I said smoothly.

He wanted to find Sookie, but I think my deliberate use of the word 'pursue' tipped the balance in his decision. "I would likeyou to remain Sheriff of Area 5," he stated. "Your point about resources is well-taken."

Honestly, it was bullshit, because I had enough resources at my disposal even without my political position to look for our little blonde telepath, but if Bill wasn't astute enough to realize that, that was his problem.

"So, _your majesty_. If not Sophie-Anne, then who else might have taken Sookie?" I was curious to see if Bill had detected the same olfactory hints I had and if his mind was moving in the same direction.

Bill's eyes narrowed in thought. "Could Russell have escaped his prison? We should start there. You know, having tasted her, he will not rest until he has her again if he has the opportunity."

While the motive was plausible, the possibility that Russell had taken Sookie seemed unfeasible. Even if Russell Edgington had been freed from his prison by progeny just as Pam had freed me, even a vampire of his age could not have healed adequately in just a couple of hours to be physically able to kidnap Sookie. In the best of circumstances, such severe burns could be expected to take at least several hours to heal. But who was I to disagree with my sovereign's speculation?

I rose to my full height. "With your permission, I will go back to Shreveport now and verify that Russell is still where we left him."

"And then report back to me, Sheriff." Bill commanded.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Easier done if you give me back my cell phone. Sire."

Bill had the grace to look discomfited as he pulled my cell out of his pocket.

I didn't thank him.

"Eric, you realize that we must be cautious about who knows Sookie is missing. I do not want her to attract the unnecessary attention of the Authority. Or the AVL." Bill's eyes met mine with awkward entreaty.

Ah, so Nan's cat's paw wasn't sharing everything with his mentor. Interesting. That suited me, as I had no plans to share everything I knew with my new "leader," either. I would do my best to find Sookie, but I had no interest in reuniting her with Bill in the process.

"I will say nothing – for Sookie's sake. Goodnight…your Majesty. _Congratulations_." I dipped my head in the shallowest of what could pass for a respectful nod and took off into the air, leaving my new king staring forlornly at Sookie's prohibited porch.

**~*E&S*~**

"You have _got_ to be shitting me." Pam's outrage was palpable. "Why in the fuck would anyone in their right mind put that self-important little prick on a throne?"

"One thing you can say about Bill: he can be relied on to toe the mainstreaming party line. And after what Russell did, I can see the AVL finding it very important to present a "kinder, gentler" face of vampires to humans. No, he makes perfect sense." I wearily finished scrubbing at my skin, finally getting the last of the cement lime out of my pores. Everywhere the construction material had remained while I searched for Sookie was burnt red, as if I had been exposed to the sun. Again.

"Well, I don't intend to kowtow to the pompous little shit," Pam groused. "'King Bill' can kiss my ivory ass."

I stood up from the bath and reached for a towel, drying my body from the top down. "Pam, he is in the AVL's pocket, which gives him a great deal of power. You _will _follow propriety in showing your respect for your king." I wrapped the towel around my waist and then moved closer to Pam, touching my hand to her cheek and looking her full in the face. "At least in public. I don't give a shit what you say in private." I smirked at her, gave her a kiss on the forehead and whispered, "Although we might want to be more systematic in sweeping for bugs in the future in case our new king follows in Sophie-Anne's footsteps. Have our security reviewed, discreetly, tomorrow. Get rid of Sophie-Anne's electronic toys ASAP." Even if Bill knew that Sophie-Anne had had Fangtasia bugged, he could make his own damned arrangements to spy on me.

Pam nodded silently and then asked in her normal voice," What about Sookie?"

"I filled Bill in on what I found, which was nothing useful to the search." Russell's new resting place was undisturbed and hardening nicely. Given my own experience with drying cement, I assumed Russell was screaming as new layers of chemical burns formed on top of his already sun-charred skin in his concrete tomb. It was an enjoyable thought.

"So what are you going to do next?" Pam studied me gravely.

I gave her a tired half-smile. "I'm going to make a couple of phone calls and grab a bite to eat so that these damned burns heal faster. Then to rest. I've got some ideas about where I want to start tomorrow. "

"Eric – " Pam's large blue eyes met mine solemnly. "I know you cared for her. I'm sorry for your sake that she is gone."

I knew that it cost Pam dearly to say something so conventionally sympathetic, but my reaction was still sharp. "Don't give her up for dead too quickly, Pam," I said curtly. "I'm not convinced yet."

Pam's expression as I headed out of the bathroom was carefully neutral, but not before I had seen – and felt – the quickly hidden flicker of concern. Pam obviously thought I was being unrealistic and it bothered her.

I paused in the doorway and said firmly, my back to her. "I have my reasons to believe what I do, Pam, but I don't want to go into them tonight. Later, though. "

I refused to turn and face her troubled eyes before exiting.

**~*E&S*~**

Alcide Herveux wasn't happy that I was calling him in the wee hours of the morning, and so soon after he thought he was finally rid of me, although he was a little more forbearing when I told him why.

"So, what can I do to help if you don't know where Sookie is or who might have taken her?" he asked when I had finished telling him the basics of Sookie's disappearance, but still keeping my suspicion of fairy involvement to myself.

"You can start by not saying anything to anyone in the supe community, for Sookie's sake. It would be better for her if this is kept low-key for as long as possible. She's had enough unwanted interest from those who already know of her talents; we don't want her attracting the wrong attention if we can help it. "

Alcide snorted. "Sounds like she's already attracted the 'wrong attention,' if she's missin'."

"Most likely," I said evenly. "What I would like you to do is watch the house during daylight hours for me. Her friends and family don't know yet that she's missing –"

"And I suppose you ain't gonna tell them," Alcide growled. "Fucking vampers," he muttered under his breath.

"No, I'm not telling them," I said sharply. "For one thing, she may be back before we know it and this could all be concern over nothing." _If only._ "And I have reason to think that her disappearance has something to do with the supernatural community, not the human. What good can her human friends and her brother do in that situation? It's best if they are kept out of that aspect of it. For everyone's sakes."

The were begrudgingly agreed. "Okay, I'll keep an eye on the house for you. I'll let you know if she comes back tomorrow or if they realize she is missing."

"Good. I'll make it worth your while."

"I'm willing to do it for Sookie," Alcide said. "But whatever."

I had one more call to make before I would feed and rest.

" Did you hear about Compton?" I asked without introduction when she answered.

" Yes. Nan notified us immediately. She was pleased to be rid of Sophie-Anne." 

"_Our __new king made an attempt on my life earlier tonight but failed."_ I switched to Swedish given the sensitive nature of the revelation. Even among vampires, the closest modern equivalent to my native language was not commonly spoken, which made it useful when one wanted to be discreet. And this was clearly a discussion to be had prudently.

"_Ah, that was not mentioned. Perhaps he didn't tell Nan,"_ she responded in the same tongue. I could hear amusement in her voice.

"_There are apparently many things he does not tell Nan." _I replied dryly.

" Och du är bra?" _And you are fine? _She probed delicately.

" _Slightly toasted, but yes, I am fine. Or will be after I eat."_

"Bra." I could hear her relief through the cellphone. "Jag är glad, broder." _Good. I'm glad, brother._

"_Any chance I can kill him?" _I asked lightly. One can always hope.

She chuckled. "_Not yet, no. He is Nan's pet and that would not be wise of you. Not at this time."_

"Damn. That is as I thought but it was worth asking," I said regretfully in English.

She laughed again. "Rest well, älskling. Stay safe."

**~*E&S*~**

That morning as I lay down for the day, my last thoughts were of Sookie.

Every time I closed my eyes, I pictured her, still in the pale blue sundress she was wearing when last I saw her, surrounded by a hoard of physically beautiful beings, although my imagination alternately portrayed her interactions with them as violent (as they snatched her by force, Sookie fighting ferociously but overwhelmed) or seductive. (I stifled the mental image of a stunningly handsome male fairy pulling her into his arms, grabbing her hair as he kissed her passionately and then vanishing with her in his arms.) My eyes popped open and I shifted on my pallet uncomfortably, uncertain which prospect was worse. If she felt no fear, the seduction seemed more likely, which didn't make me feel much better.

Trying to focus on something other than Sookie being seduced by someone other than me, I pondered what I knew of fairy lore from my human life. My people had believed in a variety of supernatural beings, from the gods and goddesses whose veneration I had long-since abandoned, to trolls and giants, but what best fit my new experiential knowledge of fairies would have been the tales of _álfar_: elves. They were rumored to come in two varieties - _ljósálfar_ ("light elves") and _dökkálfar _("dark elves." )

I felt a tingle of excitement as I recalled a Medieval description of the _ljósálfar _as "fairer to look upon than the sun."

Light. Sun. Beauty.

Sookie.

If Sookie was a descendant of the _ljósálfar_, then perhaps I had a name for where the fae had taken her.

_Álfheimr. _Elf-home. Fairyland.

**A/N:** **Cement really will burn your skin if it is not cleaned off properly, so I made our clever Viking follow a smart tip and neutralize the alkaline of the cement with acidic vinegar. (You can also use lemon juice, but I'm saving the lemons for another story… ;-) ) Too bad he didn't get it all off because he was in such a rush to find Sookie.**

"_**Regina mortuaest, vivat (rex/regina)," **_**is Latin for "The Queen is dead, long live the king/queen."**


	2. Active Investigation

**A/N: Eric and Pam speak Swedish. I do not. And Eric informs me that unless they are simple statements, Google Translate makes him sound like he is speaking in pidgin Swedish, so he'd rather I just italicized the English translation of anything he is supposed to be saying in Swedish. I'm not arguing with him. He has BIG fangs. ;-) **

**Thanks to everyone who has listed this story as a favorite or story alert. I'm happy that someone besides me is enjoying it. Especially since canon fics can bbe harder to enjoy. *cough cough* XOXO**

**Chapter 2: Active Investigation**

When I woke at dusk, the empty spot that had been my bond with Sookie was still silent. I sighed, sat up and immediately checked my cell phone for messages. Nothing from Herveaux or anyone else. I didn't even consider hanging around to wait for new information. If it wasn't coming to me, I'd go out in search of it.

As I approached Sookie's, I found the lights still ablaze just as they had been the night before. From the sky I could see that Bill's house was also unusually well-lit. Weighing which location to investigate first, I opted to check in with the werewolf for debriefing before visiting with my king.

I found Herveaux in the tree line of Sookie's property, where he transformed from his wolf form only when I touched down nearby.

"Hey," he grunted in greeting as I raised an eyebrow at his naked form.

Catching my look, he said defensively, "Thought it'd be easier to go unnoticed in the woods if I shifted."

"Not to vampires," I said dryly, careful to stand upwind of him.

"Well, there ain't been any around today until you showed up." He knit his brows at me. "Do you know what's going on at the Compton place? Only thing going on in this neck of the woods all day was activity over at Vampire Bill's. Big black SUVs full of humans in black get ups and armed to the teeth from what I could see when I checked 'em out earlier."

Royal security. That hadn't taken long.

"Bill's come up in the vampire world lately," I said, remaining deliberately vague. The weres would know about vamp business soon enough. "I suspect Bill has hired private body guards to keep the riffraff away." I shrugged off his pointed look. "Also, his relationship with Sookie was known. Until we know what happened to her, it's smart for him to be cautious."

Herveaux pursed his lips and then nodded. "Okay, makes sense." He started to walk deeper into the woods. "Follow me while I get my clothes back on and I'll fill you in."

The were's report was largely uneventful. He had arrived early in the morning and found Sookie's home deserted as I had said. He'd taken up a post in the woods and settled in to watch the house. Hearing the sounds of large vehicles early in the day, he'd gone to investigate in his animal form and discovered the paramilitary forces arriving at Bill's, where they spread out around the perimeter of the property. Two had even come as far as the Bon Temp cemetery on walking patrols and had periodically looked over in the direction of Sookie's house as if to monitor activity there. That was when he decided that staying in the woods as a wolf would be prudent.

"Got to tell you one strange thing, though," Herveaux said. "When I was checking out the humans at Compton's place, I passed through the cemetery. I caught a whiff of Sookie along with something else, something weird. Kind of powerful and sweet, but mostly pretty faint by the time I got there. That the supe connection you were thinking of last night? 'Cause whatever it was, it sure wasn't human or animal. Do you know what it was?" The were's look verged on an accusation.

"No," I conceded. "I did detect something last night, but it was unidentifiable." Technically true. I had decided not to talk much about the possibility of fairy involvement until I knew better what it might mean.

"I tried following the scent trail, but it didn't go nowhere, either into or out of the cemetery," Herveaux said. "What appears and disappears like that in the middle of thin air?"

"No idea," I responded coolly. "But do me a favor and don't mention it to anyone else." I met his eyes and he took the warning in them seriously.

"I know what you said last night. I'm not going to do anything to put Sookie at risk." The wolf actually growled as he said it.

"Good boy." I half-smiled at the were, who bristled at my tiny gibe.

"There wasn't a sign of anyone else all day," Herveaux brusquely finished up. "I heard Sookie's phone ring from the house a couple of times, but no one came by in person." He finished pulling on his boots. "Listen, I'll stay in Bon Temps tonight and I can come out tomorrow again if need be, but after that, I should get back to Jackson. End of construction season is coming and I'm under pressure to get things done. I already lost too much time the last couple of weeks." He shifted as if uncomfortable with what he was about to say next. "I'm worried about Sookie, don't get me wrong. But I don't see that I'm helping her any by sitting here waiting on her to show up at her empty house."

I shoved my hands into my pockets. "I'll arrange something for the morning. You were my best option when I first discovered her gone last night, but I never intended you to become a permanent watchdog." Herveaux snorted. I don't think he appreciates my sense of humor. "You can consider this 'favor' at an end for now."

"Northman?"

My eyes met the were's dark gaze.

"Why are you so intent on finding Sookie? Haven't y'all done enough to screw up her life these last few days? What if, wherever she's gone, she doesn't want to be found? At least, not by you."

I didn't much care for the protective note in Herveaux's voice. But I could understand it.

"You're right. We have 'screwed up her life' these last few days." I shrugged the concession. "And if she has left of her own accord – well, that's fine. I just want to make sure that's the case. I – _owe_ her."

Herveaux mulled this over. "Yeah, I guess you do. And while I'm not a fan of being in your debt, Northman, I know you're good about coming through on your end when it comes to deals. I can respect that." Herveaux nodded at me. "Gotta go. I'd appreciate knowing if you do hear anything."

"Ditto." I watched him lope away into the woods, presuming that he had a vehicle parked nearby.

Guess it was time to check in with my new king.

**~*E&S*~**

The new guards were everything Herveaux had described and more. They were dressed like the movie versions of a high level American military black ops squad, from their black knit beanies down to their combat boots. Very different from Sophie-Anne's security, whose members had looked more like government Secret Service in their sleek black suits and ties.

I was especially surprised to find that all of Bill's guards were human. It was customary to have a mixture of human and vamp guards for royalty, with humans tolerated only because they could stand vigil during daylight hours. I mused over the intended message of an all-human force and concluded that the notion had probably been one of Nan's suggestions, perhaps to show that a new, friendlier day of vamp and human relations had dawned in Louisiana.

Too bad for the humans that should any vampires ever attack the new king, the humans would most likely all be dead within seconds, and Bill soon after. But I suppose they were good enough to protect against other humans, and if Bill was willing to put his own life at stake, well, that was his business.

"Halt!" One of the sentries stopped me as I stepped out of the cemetery grounds onto Bill's property. "State your business." The guard obviously identified me as vampire and held his weapon in a readied position. I assumed that the ammunition was not standard human issue, but more likely wood or silver – maybe even a combination.

Something like that would kill even a vampire as old as Sophie-Anne. The thought made me raise an eyebrow. Maybe Bill's guards were also the ones who had killed the late queen. Perhaps I should tread just a hair more carefully.

"Sheriff Northman of Area 5, here to see the king," I stated.

I was waved through after a quick confirmation via the guard's Bluetooth headset.

Both the inside and outside of Bill's house were hives of activity. Movers were carrying boxes both into and out of the old plantation, other people appeared to be taking measurements of the structure's dimensions and a number of people were crouched in corners and on floors apparently…_cleaning_.

For some reason, my mind leapt to Sookie's maenad-enhanced home, still encrusted with dried mud, and my jaw tightened.

"Sheriff Northman, you may go into the King's study." A sentry gestured for me to enter the room to the left of the main hall, where Bill was seated at a table, huddled with a drafting-pencil-clutching human over what appeared to be architectural plans

My new king glanced up at me and held up a finger to indicate he'd be with me in a moment.

"If I could just have a moment to speak with my Sheriff," he said with ease to the man, whom I assumed was some sort of architect or engineer. "Why don't you find the kitchen and see if there are any refreshments. This should not take long."

"Remodeling?" I inquired politely after the human had left.

Bills flattened his hands out on the drawings, smoothing them. "There's a lot to be done to prepare my home for my position," he said almost apologetically. "It hadn't occurred to me, for instance, that I will need to have appropriate accommodations for – _detainees _– installed. Vampire-proof cells, of course, light-proof and enclosed with silver bars. I'm thinking that we can dig out the foundation of the house —" Bill stopped as if suddenly aware to whom he was speaking. If he had still been human, I think he would have blushed as he pushed the plans to one side. "But you're here to talk about Sookie." He looked pained. "My guards kept an eye on her house during their patrols today, but had nothing to report. What about you, Eric? Any news?"

"As I am sure your men told you, she has not returned." I folded my hands together in front of me as I considered what to include in my 'update.' "It does not appear her absence has yet been noted by her friends and family."

For once, I found myself in alignment with Bill's dour expression. I was not terribly impressed by the lax attention paid to Sookie by her supposed 'loved ones.' Even without a blood bond, you would think someone would have missed her within 24 hours.

"Eric, I am being watched very closely during this time of transition," Bill said bleakly. "You only just missed Nan herself, filling me in on what to expect over the next few weeks. I am finding that my hands are somewhat more tied than I had expected in regard to searching for Sookie." His misery was evident on his pale face. "I'm afraid that if I am too obvious in my efforts to find her, Nan will become inquisitive. And that would be bad for Sookie – assuming she ever returns."

"It would indeed." I bit my tongue to keep from observing that if Bill hadn't had such a cozy relationship with the insufferable Nan, Sookie might not have come to her attention at all.

Bill's jaw hardened. "You must know how I hate to make this request of you of all people, Eric," he finally grated out. "I would give anything to be able to do this myself." _Except give up your new crown, _I thought grimly. "I am asking if you can discreetly lead the inquiry into Sookie's disappearance. I will give you any resource you need, so long as you keep your search off the radar of anyone higher than myself." Bill allowed himself a sardonic twist of his lips that was not quite a smile. "Obviously, you were able to do similarly covert things for Sophie-Anne."

_Oh, now, let's not get nasty, Bill. _"So long as you don't betray my _loyalty _the way the late Queen did," I replied evenly. "Your majesty." Maybe that did sound a bit threatening. Not my intent, of course.

This seemed a good time to change the subject.

"I am going to suggest we begin by putting permanent observers on her home as well as the bar where she works and her brother's place," I proposed matter-of-factly. "I will take care of it and make sure that no one I select can be connected with you." Or go behind my back or over my head to him directly with anything but information I wanted him to have.

"Eric, do not take personal advantage of this." Bill's voice sharpened with warning. "If I find that you have in any way tried to _infiltrate_ into Sookie's life through my request, beyond locating her, I will find a way to end you."

I hated to admit it, but with armed humans at his disposal and the backing of the Authority, he could do that. Not personally, in what passed among vampires as a "fair fight," of course, because of the differences in our age, but with the power that came with his puppet crown.

I hated Nan Flanagan, that fucking medieval bitch.

"So long as she is missing, your majesty, there is no 'Sookie's life' to infiltrate," I pointed out wryly. "But I will do my best to find Sookie, and I can promise you: _I will not harm her in any way_."

Bill studied me warily before snorting in resignation. "Fine, _Sheriff. _Keep tabs on any expenses you incur in searching for her. I do not want you to forward them directly to me until I have a better sense of how the kingdom's finances must be handled, but I assure you that as soon as possible, I will find a way to recompense you in a way that is financially satisfactory to both of us." The corner of my mouth twitched at this caveat; I suspected that Nan Flanagan had insisted on some sort of audit of Louisiana's finances in the wake of Sophie-Anne's fiscally disastrous reign. Bill obviously wanted to keep my "services" off the official books and subsequently away from Nan's eyes.

Bill picked up his new house plans. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have plans to finish."

The architect/engineer/interior designer or whatever the fuck he was was hovering in the entry way as I left, obviously anxious to get back to work.

**~*E&S*~**

For the second night in a row, I returned to Sookie's porch. As I sat on her front steps, I started making phone calls to set up surveillance on the locations I had suggested to Bill. I had made the arrangements for eyes on Sookie's house when Pam called.

"Anything on Sookie?" I knew Pam had no special attachment to Sookie, but I appreciated that she cared enough about me to ask.

"Nothing new," I said shortly. "I'm setting up surveillance on the places she frequents in the hope that changes." I filled Pam in on details, before adding, "By the way, the new seat of our monarchy is now located in Bon Temps." I smirked as I heard Pam's sputtering response.

"Oh, for God's sake, he's not seriously going to remain in that wreck of a mansion?"

"He appears to be bringing it up to royal standards even as we speak. "

I didn't have to see Pam's face to know she was rolling her eyes and I smiled.

"Well, at least we won't have to travel as far as New Orleans when we need something," my progeny finally allowed begrudgingly.

Pam brought me up to speed on other business before we ended the call. I sat for a few more minutes in the dark of Sookie's porch, feeling her absence.

The night before, I had been so focused on _where_ she might have gone I hadn't given too much thought to _why_. Why would fairies have taken Sookie with them somewhere else? As only a part-fae, I couldn't see any reasons why they would take her for her abilities as a vampire might. The telepathy and light burst power had to come from her fae heritage and had to be common in full-blooded fairies. If the goal in taking her wasn't to bring her talents to fairyland, maybe it was to get her out of our world. Perhaps her remaining in our plane had presented some form of risk to the fae. I thought of the amazing effect of her blood in keeping me from burning in the sunlight, albeit temporarily, and wondered if having drunk so deeply from her had somehow alerted the fairies to that risk. Maybe ingesting her blood did something more than prevent my death in the sun, something that menaced other fae.

If so, then her disappearance could be my fault. Fuck.

Ignoring the twinge of guilt I felt at that thought, I thought again about the smell of fairy in the cemetery. Alcide had said that the trail both began and ended there, which fit what my own nose had detected night before. If the fae had both arrived and departed from the same spot, then perhaps it was some kind of portal to this other place, not a random location for Sookie's disappearance at all.

Leaving my perch on Sookie's porch, I went back to the cemetery to explore it again.

The scent was completely gone now. I stared at the burial ground in frustration. If there was some obvious reason this place served as a fairy portal, I was missing it. Of course, I knew jack shit about fairies beyond what I had personally experienced with Sookie. Sophie-Anne might have had more information, but between her obsession with what a vampire could _do_ with a fairy and her being a mentally unstable bitch, I couldn't exactly regret the lost opportunity to ask her. Where else could I get information about the fae?

And suddenly I remembered something I had seen in Sophie-Anne's palace the day I had helped Russell take her.

_Sophie-Anne had a library. _

And given that Sophie-Anne was not known as much of a leisure reader, I suspected that the library had served a particular purpose: as a collecting ground for information about the Queen's singular obsession, day walking.

I was in the air in moments, on my way to the late queen's home in New Orleans.

**~*E&S*~**

The former royal residence was deserted. I could only assume that Sophie-Anne's remaining guards had heard the word of their queen's demise and wisely fled.

I located the library I had remembered. The collection took up a small room to one side of her light-tight bedroom. I browsed the collection and was pleased to find my speculation had been right: most of the volumes pertained to fairy lore. I picked out a handful of the most promising-looking volumes and was able to dig out a shopping bag from Sophie-Anne's immense walk-in closet to store them in for the flight home. Before I left, I made arrangements by phone for a contact I knew in New Orleans to box up the rest and bring them to Shreveport as soon as possible. Not knowing whether the volumes would be helpful or not to someone seeking information on the fae, I would rather err on the side of caution for Sookie's sake and make sure the books were somewhere safe – in my possession.

While I was still in Sophie-Anne's rooms, Bill called to tell me that Jason Stackhouse and Sam Merlotte had just been to his home, looking for Sookie. He had told them that he had last seen her safe and well the night before and that he knew nothing of where she was. The movers, designer and armed guards had, of course, piqued their curiosity, but Bill felt he had given them an adequate explanation by blaming it all on Russell Edgington. "Between Edgington still being unaccounted for and the surge in human on vamp violence due to his actions, I feel I need increased security in my home," he had claimed. Even the sudden push for renovations was Edgington's fault: Bill had always planned to refurbish his home, but now he felt compelled to demonstrate as quickly as possible that a harmless vampire like himself was not like that terrorist, but eager to be a "contributing member of Bon Temps society."

He actually quoted that line to me. It was a good thing we were on the phone so he couldn't see my expression.

Bill admitted that neither the shifter nor Sookie's brother had seemed entirely convinced, but he had sent them on their way, strongly encouraging them to contact the human police force right away. He would cooperate fully with any authorities because he had nothing to hide.

Armed with Sophie-Anne's books about the fae, I made it back home just before dawn and settled in for the day. Once again, trying to sleep, I became more aware of Sookie's absence as I had nothing to distract me as I lay in the dark. Despite all the angst our bond had given me just before she vanished, it was still less painful than the silent void that remained. I grimly tried to focus on anything but the uncomfortable feelings, but it was a long while before I finally drifted off into my daytime sleep, and even then Sookie, always under some threat I couldn't see to fight, dominated my dreams.

**~*E&S*~**

With the humans finally aware of Sookie's disappearance, I had to avoid her home for the next several days, relying on the surveillance in Bon Temps I had arranged to keep me informed. It forced me to attend to business in Shreveport, a development that Pam made no secret of appreciating. Since my progeny is more than capable of running the bar in my absence, her reaction told me that she was still concerned about how I had been behaving the past several days. I'd finally had a chance to explain my theory on the fairies to her, and while I knew she was somewhat intrigued, she had raised an eyebrow when she saw the cache of books on the subject that I'd brought back from Sophie-Anne's palace. Pam is nothing but loyal to me, but it was clear that she thought my interest in Sookie's whereabouts was excessive and maybe even unhealthy.

She managed to bite her tongue right up until Jason Stackhouse showed up at Fangtasia with a human police officer on the sixth day after Sookie had vanished.

Pam's expression had been odd as she escorted the two humans towards me and I realized why when they came within scenting distance: both men smelled of species other than human. My eyes met Pam's and my cocked eyebrow was a match for her own. Sookie's brother carried with him the scent of werepanthers and the policeman smelled of vampire. I eyed the cast on the latter's left forearm and wondered if there might be a connection.

"Eric, Sookie's brother and Sheriff Andy Bellefleur of Bon Temps are here with questions about Sookie," Pam said languidly.

"I heard she had disappeared. Have you found any clues to where she has gone?" I leaned forward.

"We don't share information on an active investigation," Sheriff Andy barked at me. "'Specially with persons of interest," he added gruffly.

Pam looked insulted but I simply raised an eyebrow even higher. "And I am a 'person of interest'? Why might that be?"

"Look, Andy don't mean you're a suspect or nothin'," interjected Jason Stackhouse, his hand clutching at the officer as if to warn him into silence. "We just thought you might know if Sookie might be involved in some vampire business or somethin'. I know she's done work for y'all in the past and last time I saw her, she was helping out you and Vampire Bill again. Even after what he done to her."

"Miss Stackhouse did help us out with something just before she disappeared," I conceded after a moment. "But she had completed that work the night I understand she vanished." The lawman looked skeptical. I didn't care what he thought, but I did find myself wanting to be honest – or at least as honest as I could be – with Sookie's brother, so I directed the rest of my statement to him. "We value – we _respect_ your sister very much. She has been a great help to us, sometimes at great cost to herself. I am very concerned that she has gone missing. But we –" I gestured slightly towards Pam. "— had nothing to do with whatever has happened to her." I met Jason Stackhouse's eyes sincerely. "And I can assure you that – because of my great _respect_ for your sister – that if someone has done harm to her, I will do my personal best to redress that." Pam looked surprised but remained silent.

"Oh, so we're supposed to believe a vampire when he says he had nothing to do with a woman's disappearance? A woman who hangs out with vampires?" Sheriff Bellefleur blurted out in frustration.

"Do you have a problem with vampires, Sheriff?" I asked coolly. "Because it seems to me that you have an interesting scent for someone who doesn't care to associate with them."

The officer startled and unconsciously clutched at the cast on his left arm. Jason Stackhouse frowned in confusion, looking between me and his companion.

"You haven't introduced your friend to your bad habits, have you, Mr. Stackhouse?" I inquired. "Because I thought I was quite clear the last time I saw you how the use of certain … illegal substances…might be interpreted."

"Hey, now!" Stackhouse had finally caught on to the subtext and leaned in towards me to speak in a low but persistent voice. "I have not been doing anything like, like _that_ in a long, long time. _Not a drop._" He started to poke a finger into my chest, but caught my glance down at the offending appendage before it actually made contact and pulled it back sharply.

"And you, Sheriff?" I studied the rotund officer, picking up his increased heart rate. "Do you take V use seriously?"

"I take all illegal drug use seriously," Bellefleur blustered after a second's pause. "In fact we just tried to bust us a V ring out in Hotshot." He thrust his chin out pugnaciously.

"Well, Sheriff, just remember which side of the law you are on," I said with a flicker of warning. "The anti-V laws are some that we vampire can agree on with humans. In fact, we tend to view your punishments for such offenses as outright merciful." I smiled, showing just a hint of fang. "Now, is there anything else you have to ask me about Miss Stackhouse?"

"Exactly what was she doing for you all before she went missing?" Andy Bellefleur had broken out a notebook and pen and seemed to determine to follow protocol despite the tense moments that had just passed.

Pam snorted as I replied, "That, Sheriff Bellefleur, is something I cannot share with you. But I can assure you, it had nothing to do with Miss Stackhouse's disappearance."

"Well, when _did _you see her last?" The damned sheriff was not going to give up. Although I found the questions tedious, I answered what I could, telling him that I had last seen Sookie at her house, that she was well when I had last seen her, and that I knew nothing beyond that.

"What about Bill Compton?" Bellefleur grated. "What do you know about his interactions with Miss Stackhouse before her disappearance?"

I was tempted to tell the truth, that Bill and Sookie had had an argument before she went missing. While I was convinced that Bill had nothing to do with Sookie's disappearance, it would have been amusing to have the human authorities investigate him thoroughly as a suspect, which they seemed to do quite often with missing women's significant others. I entertained a brief fantasy of Sheriff Bellefleur insisting on searching Bill's home, looking for evidence of a domestic altercation gone tragically bad, only to find dungeon construction in progress.

Unfortunately, with Bill now my king, throwing him to the wolves of the human authorities just for my own amusement was not a wise move. If the humans did pry too closely into Bill's strained relationship with Sookie and I was traced as the one to have pointed it out, I could be accused of treason. I didn't really want to face the true death because I had wanted to have fun at Bill's expense. At least, not today.

I sighed with regret before answering flatly, "I know that they were no longer together as a couple, but Miss Stackhouse had been friendly enough towards Mr. Compton to voluntarily help us out with a recent issue. I can't tell you anything more than that." _Not without putting myself at risk, anyhow._

"What about all that work Vampire Bill is doing at his house?" Jason blurted out. "What's that all about?"

"Jason, you ain't supposed to ask the questions because you are not the law," Bellefleur growled. He turned to me. "What do you know about all that work Bill Compton is doing at his house?"

"That he has surprisingly contemporary taste," drawled Pam beside me. "At least to judge from what I've heard about the direction he wants his décor to take." I shot her a perturbed look. "It's just a rumor at this point," she said more to me than to our human visitors. "It's just so unexpected that people are talking."

I cut my irreverent progeny off. "I don't know why Bill is renovating now, but I know he is. And, frankly, given the state of that house, it's about time. Perhaps his recent encounter with Russell Edgington inspired him to cross off some items on his bucket list before it is too late." I shrugged, genuinely disinterested in Bill's decorating plans.

"Do you think Russell Edgington could be involved in Sookie's disappearance?" Jason Stackhouse's voice was tense.

I was quiet for a moment. I could understand all too well the fear that Sookie's brother would have at that thought. The thought of Russell ever laying another hand on Sookie would have made my chest clench if I hadn't known that Edgington was safely encased in his cement prison. "No," I finally said. "I cannot tell you how I know this, but Russell Edgington is no longer a threat to Sookie. Or anyone else." Pam jerked beside me, startled that I had shared that much information with humans. "You can rule that out," I said firmly.

"Are we done here?" Pam said abruptly. "I don't know how many times and different ways Eric can tell you he doesn't know what happened to Sookie."

Apparently, Bellefleur and Jason had to agree with Pam's blunt assessment and they left shortly afterwards, Jason Stackhouse requesting before he left that if I did learn anything helpful, to please let him know. Out of respect for his sister.

No sooner where they out the door then Pam leaned over to hiss at me in Swedish,_ "Eric, what the fuck was that? Since when do you give humans any kind of information about vampire business? What were you thinking?" _

"_Her brother needed to know Russell didn't have her,"_ I snapped back in the same tongue. _"He is suffering enough without worrying about that needlessly."_

My progeny looked genuinely baffled. _"Eric, I just don't understand. First you offer your own life in order to protect a human. Then, even after she is _gone_, you continue to put yourself at risk for her sake? What has happened to you?" _

I had no answer.


	3. Moving On

****A/N: Thank you SO much to everyone who has alerted/favorited/reviewed this story. Since it is my first TB one and pretty strictly set in canon, I was afraid people might be bored, so I'm glad some of you are enjoying it! ****

**Chapter 3 : Moving On**

Bill Compton had a Christmas tree.

As I waited to be admitted to the King's study, I studied the glittering shrubbery that took up a significant area of his foyer. It was decorated with a fashionably monochromatic array of copper and gold glass ornaments, a dense web of white lights, and with a plush swaddling of bronze velvet around its base that coordinated nicely with the cinnamon-patterned walls.

I wondered if it had occurred to Bill that something with so many turgid wooden branches made one hell of a potentially vampire-killing decorative accent. I edged casually to the other side of the hallway, as far from the holiday stake-fest as possible.

"Sheriff Northman, you may come in." A striking redhead in a skin-tight black uniform motioned for me to enter Bill's inner sanctum. Judging from the faint pink flush tinting her cheeks and her slightly elevated heartbeat, whatever exchange she had been having with my sovereign had been enjoyable. Not physical to judge by her scent – at least not yet – but she was clearly roused by Bill's company.

"Thank you, Miss Pelham." Bill smiled charmingly at her.

"Your majesty." She dipped her head at him respectfully before withdrawing from the room, a pleased little smile on her face.

"Eric. Thank you for answering my summons." No bonhomie for me; Bill's expression had become grave as soon as I entered. "Please have a seat."

I dropped into a chair in front of his executive desk and waited to be informed why I was here. I had been keeping Bill in the loop on reports from the surveillance teams located at Sookie's previous haunts; I had also given him updates on the handful of trips I had made to rule out possibilities beyond my fairy theory, including an expedition to track down Sookie's friend Tara, who had suspiciously vanished the same night as Sookie did. That Tara had run away and was living under an assumed name seemed suspect to me at first, but given her narrow escape from Russell and his odd little henchman Franklin Mott, it didn't seem all that surprising once I thought about it. I had diligently searched for any clues that her strange behavior had anything to do with Sookie's disappearance and ultimately concluded the Tara's rapid departure from Bon Temps had everything to do with her own life, not Sookie's.

Every other possible lead had had the same result. No one had seen or heard anything of value concerning Sookie in nearly three months. It was as if she had vanished from the face of the earth.

The longer she was gone, the more I had to cling to the sliver of hope given to me the first night she went missing. I believed – and it had become an article of _faith _for me over the past three months, as there was no further _proof _of what had happened to base my optimism on – that Sookie was alive and she was with the fae in some other plane of existence.

Sometimes as I lay down for the day (_another day where she remained gone_) I would worry about whether I had imagined the enticing fragrance in the cemetery that night and wonder if my speculation was just fantasy. Then I would force my mind to go over every detail again: the intoxicating scents, the path starting at Sookie's house, the pit stop at her grandmother's grave, and the gravel path where it all vanished. It had been _real_. It had _happened_ that way.

Telling myself again and again that I had _not_ imagined the entire thing and that she was still alive was the only thing that kept me sane.

Relatively.

While I kept Bill in the loop on all my efforts in looking for Sookie on the earthly plane, I did not tell him about the amount of time I was spending trying to understand fairy realms and how they were accessed and by whom. In the three months since Sookie had disappeared, I had devoured Sophie-Anne's library, becoming a relative expert on fairy theory and mythology.

What I had not mastered, however, were any practical ideas for how to find Sookie if she was really no longer on this earth.

The frustration of that was making me a little crazy. I wanted to be able to _do_ something to find her; that I was not having much success at finding anything I _could_ do was making me edgy and irritable.

"Do you have any news at all on the search for Sookie?" Bill asked.

"Nothing new, no. The human search is continuing but has turned up nothing, as you know. I am informed that you do remain the primary person of interest in the case as far as the Bon Temps police are concerned."

Bill rolled his eyes at that.

I added drily, "With myself as the next most likely suspect, of course." The human police force had persisted in being annoying up to a point, but had recently backed off on their clumsy investigations of either of us. "I understand that Sookie's brother is slated to begin police academy training after the New Year. Jason Stackhouse is expecting to join the force as a deputy within six months. I suspect he is hoping professional police training will help him find Sookie, but I think he is naïve on that point." It remained unsaid, but if I could not find her with the expanded resources at my disposal then the chances of the humans doing so, even someone as motivated as Sookie's brother, were slim.

Bill sighed dejectedly and he picked up a pen and began to tap it nervously against paperwork on his desk. Finally he began speaking reluctantly. "As you know, Nan Flanagan approved the use of monarchy funds to initiate the search for Sookie on the grounds that she is very valuable to Louisiana as our telepath." I had been dutifully turning in receipts for the surveillance and travel expenses based on that approval for the past several weeks in order to substantiate that I was actively looking for Sookie. The most promising part of my search, the fairy research, was of course undocumented, which was just the way I wanted it. "Well, Nan is beginning to squawk about the ongoing expense of the search when we have nothing to show for it. She has asked me to wind up all search efforts immediately and that all funds for that purpose be terminated as of the end of this calendar year."

I shrugged. "Fine. I can easily pay for the surveillance out of my own pocket. Nan doesn't need to know."

"No." Bill's tone was sharp. "No, Eric, I am asking you to bring the search to an end. Completely."

I opened my mouth to respond and he cut me off, his tone stoic and resigned. "If she was alive to be found, surely you have to agree we would have found her by now. As much as it pains me to admit it, Sookie _must_ be dead. It is time that we acknowledge it and move on." He did look troubled, but I also sensed his unreserved acceptance of what he was saying. Bill really believed Sookie was no more.

I kept my face impassive although internally I had automatically begun my mantra: _Sookie is alive, she may not be on this plane but she is still alive and she _will _come back. _I refused to be swayed by the opinions of others, especially someone like Bill Compton.

"Eric, I am going to insist that you return full-time to your obligations at Fangtasia. You can consider your service in this matter at an end," Bill said firmly.

I had known the day would come eventually that I'd be asked to stop looking, but I was still surprised that Bill was giving up so easily by my standards. I had expected at least six months of searching, if not more.

But then, I could not – _would not_ – believe that Sookie was dead and, in my mind, a living Sookie would always be worth searching for. For _however_ long it would take.

I pondered for a moment what I should do with Bill's edict. I did regret the loss of eyes on the various properties, but, honestly, what good had it done me in the past three months? Sookie was not to be seen and I was still hopeful that when she came back, I'd feel her presence again through my blood before ever laying eyes on her.

"Fine," I agreed coolly. "Is there anything more, your majesty?"

"We all just need to … move on. You should as well." And with that, my king dismissed me.

**~*E&S*~**

I decided to stop at Sookie's home before driving back home to Shreveport. As I cut through the cemetery, I didn't detect anything of note and when I got to her house, it was silent and dark. I stood in the gravel at the foot of the front stairs and stared up at the farmhouse. When Sookie had first disappeared, there had been a flurry of activity centered there, but for the last month, it had felt increasingly abandoned. Dried autumn leaves and twigs had blown up onto the porch and remained untouched, and the window sills and doors were black with fingerprint powder left by the police. The exterior siding was still rimed with mud and I could smell the earthy scent of mold spores clinging to the surface, dormant only because of the cold weather. When it got warmer, they would begin to thrive if they were not removed.

It pissed me off because the shameless neglect seemed to say that no one – _no one_, not her family or her friends or even Bill Compton – seemed to think Sookie was ever going to come back to what was rapidly becoming a decrepit eyesore. Evidently she was as good as dead to them already. The thought made my jaw clench.

"Mr. Northman, is that you?"

A human, bundled into a winter jacket against the December night chill, edged out of the dark tree line around Sookie's yard.

"Ray." I nodded in acknowledgment. He was one of the men I had assigned to watch over Sookie's house the past few weeks. "This is your last night out here. We're ending our surveillance of the property. Give Tanker a call and let him know he can drop coverage of the other Stackhouse place as well. Then you can go over to Merlotte's and have a beer with Mike. He's done there, too. I'll call the others to pass the word. Payment will be finalized tomorrow."

"Yessir." Ray hesitated and then said knowingly, "This mean you all are giving up on that Crazy Sookie ever coming back? "

My fangs were out in an instant and at vamp speed, Ray's terrified face was inches from my own as I gripped his throat in my hand. "Never – _never_ refer to Miss Stackhouse that way again." I tightened my fingers. "And no one is giving up on her." Well, maybe that wasn't strictly true, but _I_ sure as fuck was not giving up.

The second I released Ray's throat he sputtered and coughed before croaking, "S-sorry, Mr. Northman. That's just how we've heard folks refer to her down at the bar where she used to work. They sometimes talk about her, wondering what happened. I didn't mean nothin' by it, honest."

"Just get out of here. And don't forget that part of the deal is that you _listen _but don't fucking _talk _about this to other people. You and your friends should remember that, because if I hear any of you've been talking about this job, Sookie Stackhouse won't be the only person to disappear."

"Lips are sealed, Mr. Northman, no worry about that. Sorry again for the misunderstandin'." Ray scrambled away into the dark. I took a last lingering look at the deteriorating shell of Sookie's home and turned with exasperation back towards Bill's home where my car was parked.

**~*E&S*~**

As winter began to tiptoe towards spring, I felt like everyone but me had adjusted to a new, Sookie-less status quo. I learned in a chance encounter with Bill's progeny Jessica that the shifter boss had hired a new waitress just before the holidays and had finally cleared out Sookie's storage cubby in the bar. Sookie's brother was in the midst of his police training and focused on that. My Lafayette was, to judge by the feelings I felt through the slight bond we had remaining, involved in a new romantic relationship.

Even Bill Compton had moved on. In a visit to the royal mansion in mid-January, I had been able to smell that he and the efficient redhead from my holiday visit had become lovers.

That I was the last one to cling to hope for Sookie's return kind of pissed me off. Not against her friends and family – I could understand the humans' need to let the pain go, especially if they did not know what I knew about Sookie's disappearance and had lost hope.

No, I was pissed at myself for caring so much.

I had always been frank in acknowledging that I wanted Sookie, from the very night we met. I had been intrigued by her, at first because she seemed so drastically different from Bill Compton's former lovers, particularly the vicious Lorena. Either Bill had changed dramatically since the last time I had seen him or Sookie fit into some hidden agenda of his. Knowing he was Sophie-Anne's procurer, I assumed Sookie had some special quality that made her desirable to vampires, a theory confirmed when she confessed she was a telepath. Nonetheless, his protection of her had been out of the ordinary, even for her unique abilities, and it had clearly been personally motivated, and something I found enigmatic. It didn't take me long to ascertain what Bill saw in her beyond the telepathy; she was fiery and loyal under that sweet Southern exterior, an alluringly paradoxical combination. My attraction had grown in each subsequent interaction with her, but my fate was sealed when she slapped me for holding her friend Lafayette for interrogation in Eddie Fournier's disappearance.

Up until that moment, my feelings towards Sookie Stackhouse had been lust for both her body and her sweet-smelling blood, mixed with curiosity and a calculating assessment of her worth as a telepath. But the moment she had the courage and fire to smack a 1,000-year-old vampire across the face for daring to hurt someone she cared about, a hot flame of something more than the desire to fuck her, bite her and use her sprung up in me. In that moment, I saw her warrior spirit and it made me want something more from her, something deeper and longer-lasting than the desire-quenching tumble I had been envisioning. I wanted her to be _mine_. Manipulating her into taking my blood had been intended to increase my influence over her to that end, but it had backfired in one way.

I was finding that I was falling further under _her_ influence instead.

Feeling through our new bond her compassion for Godric as he met the sun on that rooftop – and her compassion for me as well, despite what I had just done to ensnare her – had awakened something in me that I had not felt since I was human, a longing for intimacy that I thought I had conquered centuries ago.

I still refused to name what that feeling was, but I knew it made me angry with myself. Godric had taught me that a vampire was never at the whim of his emotions and that humans were meant to be eaten, not loved. I had spent literally centuries pushing away the intensity of my human feelings, viewing them as an inherent weakness that was, at best, unbecoming, and at worst, likely to get me killed through some rash, sentimental action. I had shaped myself (or so I liked to think) into a paragon of rational and icy calm in all circumstances, a Sphinx-like master of strategy that never let emotions sway me from the most logical choices and actions.

To find that those who had loved Sookie Stackhouse had made some peace with their loss of her while I still struggled was simply mortifying. And yet, here I was, still hoping – no, _longing _- for her to return, even though the last thing she had felt for me was anger and disgust.

Worst of all, Pam finally called me on it.

The weekend before Mardi Gras, Fangtasia's usually red and black interior had been highlighted with purple, gold and green accents, and several of the dancers had donned strings of Mardi Gras beads and exotic masks as part of their stage wear. Pam herself was decked out in shimmering green and gold with a rather exuberant feather headdress and sequined green pumps.

"Which do you want, Eric? The king's crown or the mask?" She had cornered me in my office with a cheap costume coronet in one hand and a sparkly black and gold mask in the other.

I was working my way through one of the older books from Sophie-Anne's library. Since it was written in Welsh, a language I had some knowledge of but hadn't spoken (much less read) in a couple of centuries, I was concentrating intensely and barely aware of Pam's presence. "Hmmm?"

Pam pursed her lips. "Mardi Gras wear for the clientele, Eric, which do you prefer? The crown would be amusing, but I think the mask coordinates with your current outfit better."

"Neither. I'm busy." I glanced up at the proffered options and dismissed both with a slight shake of my head.

Both accessories suddenly skittered violently across my desk, the crown landing upside down on the book. "What the _fuck_, Pam?" I snapped.

"'What the fuck, Pam?' _What the fuck_, Eric! We are supposed to be running a business here but I can never get you to pull your nose out of those goddamn books long enough to _do that_ anymore. " I didn't need to see my progeny's face to know she was upset; I could feel the rage boiling through our bond.

I raised an eyebrow. "You're this angry over some fripperies for a holiday we don't even celebrate?" I flipped the crown off the book with a sharp backhand. "You have got to be kidding me."

"It is not about the fricking _tchotchkes_, Eric," Pam bit out. "It's about your having checked out of life ever since that goddamn fairy waitress disappeared." I could feel and see her trying to tamp down her frustration. "You have not been yourself in months," she finally said in a more controlled way. "You barely feed, you haven't banged anyone in months and you can't seem to stop spending all your free time – no, not your _free_ time – _all _your fucking time, including time that should be devoted to our _business_ – chasing after fantasies of fairyland and that missing fairy cunt." So much for Pam's attempt at self-control; I could feel the tide of frustration peak again and I couldn't help but flash my fangs at her in response.

"Eric –" Pam closed her eyes and reined in her emotions again. "I know you cared for Sookie, but, it has been nearly six months." Her blue eyes opened and met mine. "I am not saying that you are wrong in believing she is still out there somewhere, but you cannot live your life as if you are waiting for her to pop out of the ether at any second. You need to pick up the pieces of your own life, not keep it on hold for someone who may not come back for years, or even _centuries._" Pam had unfortunately been around when I read that fairies often kept their abductees not just for weeks or months but for two or three _hundred_ years.

She made a good point, but then she overreached her argument. "She's not even yours, Eric, and she made it pretty clear that she did not want to be. It's just stupid to invest this much of yourself in someone who you can't even count on having. And a _human_? What would you even do with her if she were still here, Eric? I just don't understand all this emotional angst over someone whose life is like – like an _insect's _compared to yours."

Not a word of what Pam said was not something I had already thought on my own, but I would be damned if my own progeny made me feel the sting of the humiliation I was already feeling over my lack of self-control.

"Mind your own business, Pam," I said coldly, turning back to the book in front of me. "And get those fucking toys out of my office."

There was a taut silence in the room. "I don't even know who you are any more, Eric Northman," Pam finally muttered before slamming the door on the way out.

That made two of us.

**~*E&S*~**

I never gave up hope. But that doesn't mean that I didn't get increasingly frustrated and disheartened as the months went on with no sign of Sookie. I had been through the books from Sophie-Anne's library over and over until I could have recited them in my death-like day sleep. I tried to focus on work at Fangtasia, feeling some guilt after Pam's confrontation, but my heart wasn't in it. The fangbangers were irritating, none of the current dancers held any appeal for me, and even feeding had become a necessity rather than a pleasure.

I didn't want to admit I could be depressed. To be depressed would be the ultimate admission of how far my loss of control over my feelings had gone.

Unfortunately, as much as I tried to suppress my increasingly dark feelings, I couldn't hide them from Pam because of our bond. In turn, I could sense as her anger and frustration towards me began to evolve into fear and worry as my emotions spiraled slowly downwards.

Things finally hit bottom when I threatened to kill Jason Stackhouse over the broken window.

**~*E&S*~**

August in northern Louisiana is always hot. Over 90 degrees most days, not likely to get much cooler than 72 even at night. It is miserable and muggy even for vampires.

It was worse than normal that summer. The humans were testy and hostile to one another, the various fur-bearing weres were outright vicious and even vampires were responding to the negative energy in the air. The only positive thing was that I ate more that month than I had eaten in the previous nine. I was so frustrated and irritable between my suppressed feelings and the heat that I actually wanted to bite things. Forget about seduction or pleasure. I just wanted to rip skin with my fangs and drain the blood aggressively, just for the feel of hurting something. I basically wanted everyone I encountered to feel as shitty as I did. Pam, who had been so concerned about my lack of feeding up until that point, actually pulled me aside and hissed at me that I was going to drive the customers away if I kept feeding like a new-born vampire prick. As if I cared about keeping humans happy when I wasn't.

I had cut back on dropping in at Sookie's house to check things out. It frankly brought out the worst in me to see the neglected, empty house devoid of Sookie's presence and I was already having a hard enough time with her absence without rubbing salt in the wound. That said, I still felt a compulsion to make sure it was not deteriorating too much because I still believed, _insisted _on believing, that she was going to be back. Eventually. Hopefully sometime this century.

It was the first week of August when I decided to stop by the old farmhouse. I had circled in slowly in the humid night air, checking for any changes since the last time I'd been here. Even so, I didn't see the broken window until I was actually on the ground and approaching the porch.

_Son of a bitch. _

One of the windows beside the door was shattered, with a couple of shards of glass strewn on the porch and most of the glass smashed to the inside. I cautiously peered through the window frame, pushing the weather-filthied curtains out of the way, avoiding jagged edges of broken window, and spotted a large rock on the floor inside. To judge from a spider web that bridged part of the space where there had once been glass, I gathered that the window had been been broken for at least a few days, if not longer. Through the opening, I could smell the sour reek of active mold inside the house, thriving in the hot, stale humidity of the Louisiana summer.

Rationally, I knew it was probably just vandalism by kids, drawn by the increasingly abandoned look of the house. But that it had been _left like this_, ignored by those whose responsibility I felt it was to look out for Sookie's property in her absence, caused me to see red.

The only physical reminders of Sookie that remained on this entire earth were in this house and yet, for the past several months, I'd seen it left to literally rot. I'd barely tolerated the neglect, but now it had become a target for deliberate destruction and yet nothing was being done to safeguard it. I knew enough about human behavior to know that a smashed out window left unrepaired would invite further violation of the house. Although I couldn't smell any unknown intruders' scents through the broken window, I knew it was only a matter of time before others would explore the "abandoned" house and no doubt create more damage.

I imagined Sookie coming home (_someday_) only to find her house destroyed and ravaged by strangers because no one left behind had cared enough to protect it, and a white-hot bolt of fury surged through me.

I clenched my fists and snapped my fangs down viciously as I bolted into the air to head for Jason Stackhouse's home.

Sookie's brother and I were going to have a little talk about family responsibility.

**~*E&S*~**

I admit, the way I pounded on Jason Stackhouse's door could have been described as "thunderous." But given that I could easily have put my fist through the door (to say nothing of Stackhouse's chest) given my black mood, he was lucky.

Not that he saw it that way. "What the fuck, man, what the hell you beatin' on my door like that for?" he bellowed as he threw the door open. I don't know who he expected to be knocking at his door on a hot summer night, but it was clear he wasn't expecting me. Especially not an enraged me, my fangs fully extended. "What the fuck? What are you doing here?" He stepped back from the open doorway, careful to be well clear of my reach, safe within the bubble of protection that came with a human-owned home. "Hey, hey, I know how this works, I'm not letting you in here without an invitation, so if you got something to say to me, you put those fangs away or I'm shutting this door and calling the cops." He backed up even further, but had his fists up as if he expected me to throw a punch instead of rip his throat out with my teeth. "Now, what in the hell do you want?"

I retracted my fangs with some effort and growled out in an icy voice, "Your sister's front window is broken."

Jason Stackhouse frowned at me. "Uh, what?"

"Someone has broken Sookie's window with a rock. It hasn't been fixed."

He stepped a little closer to the door, his brows furrowing more deeply. "Let me get this straight. You are on my doorstep, your fangs all up in my face, looking like you want to kill me because my missing sister's front window got _hit by a rock_?"

Put that way, I guess it did sound faintly ludicrous. Nonetheless, I had a point to make. "Why haven't you been taking care of her house while she's gone?" I snapped.

"Well, it ain't _my_ house," he said as if surprised I would ask such a thing. "And I don't know if she's ever comin' back since, for all I know, one of y'all may have killed her, so why would I be worrying about keeping her house up?"

My fangs popped again and my eyes must have telegraphed how I felt about that answer because something flickered in his face and he added begrudgingly, "I wouldn't expect you to understand, you being a vampire and all, but it ain't exactly easy for me to go over to Sook's house any more. I can't stand seeing it standin' there all empty and messed up like that. My gran always kept that house immaculate and it don't even look like our family's place any more in the condition it is in. And I sure as hell can't do nothin' about bringin' it up to speed with my new job and Sookie missin' and some other – some other stuff I got goin' on. " He looked helpless for a moment. "So, I'm sorry about her window getting' broken, but I'll go over and fix it as soon as I can. Or maybe hire someone else to do it –" His voice trailed off.

I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"Get. The window. Fixed." I bit out. "Or you won't have to worry about it anymore. "

"You _threatening_ me?" Jason squared off his body against me and I was suddenly reminded of his sister and the way she had stood up to me. Maybe they weren't as different as I tended to think.

"Yes, I am." I answered evenly. "As Sookie's brother, I think you have an _obligation_ to take care of her property until she is able to do it herself. I do not want your sister coming home to a trashed house when she eventually comes back."

Jason Stackhouse stared at me. "You are serious about this, ain't you? You want me to make sure Sookie's house gets fixed up in case she ever comes home," he said slowly as if I had proposed something utterly outlandish.

"If you can't do it, then maybe you should find someone who can," I said tightly.

"Or maybe I should let the house become someone else's problem because I think you know my sister ain't coming home. She's been gone long enough that I don't think she can be alive. And I don't know why you are trying to fuck with my head about it, but I think that's what you're doing." Jason was starting to get angry.

"Do whatever you have to do, but I don't want your sister to come home to that house in that condition. Solve the problem or I will."

I turned to leave and Jason slammed his door shut, but not before I heard him mutter under his breath, "Crazy vampire motherfucker."

**~*E&S*~**

Later that night, I told Pam about the encounter with Jason. It was one of the longer conversations we had had since she had confronted me several weeks earlier, but I guess she had felt my anger and couldn't resist finding out what had provoked it.

"Eric –" She looked thoughtful after I told her about the state of Sookie's house and my frustration over it. "Why don't you see if you can buy the house from Sookie's brother? Then you can take care of things yourself if it means that much to you. It would give you an outlet for your stress over the situation."

I stared back at her. After a moment I said, "He's not going to sell his sister's house to a vampire he thinks may have killed her. Even Jason Stackhouse is not that dumb."

Pam raised an eyebrow as if she begged to differ. "Why does have to know he'd be selling it to you? Why not use one of your off-shore dummy corporations to purchase it?"

And with that simple, clever suggestion, Pam ended up not only saving Jason Stackhouse from my wrath (not that she cared about that) but she saved me from myself.

I had hit a wall in my attempts to find Sookie and the frustration was making me a little crazy. Maybe shifting my focus to something I _could _do to eventually bring me closer to Sookie would improve my mood.

**A/N: The idea for this story started with my wondering what had happened in Sookie's missing year that would cause Jason to describe Eric as "that crazy tall one." Now you know what I think it could have been. ;-)**


	4. The Keys to the Kingdom

**A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews, alerts and favorites for this. I know canon stories can be a tough thing for us Sooric 'shippers, so I appreciate the willingness to read and review. I also appreciate all the other stories I'm learning about through all of your profiles! I'm going to have SO much reading to do when I get done writing the sequel to this. (This one is a shorty, so we are in the home stretch.) XOXOXO**

**Chapter 4: The Keys to the Kingdom**

When I called on Jason Stackhouse the next night, he initially thought I was there to kill him.

"Uh, it's only been 24 hours since you were here. I haven't had time to get that window fixed _that_ fast. Can you at least give me to the end of the week –" he began nervously.

"Jason," I murmured, catching his gaze. His eyes instantly lost their focus and went dreamy. I found it strange that Sookie's brother could be so easily glamoured while she was immune, but that was a mystery to be solved some other day. "Don't worry about the window. You are selling your sister's house. It won't be your problem any longer."

"How can I sell Sook's house? Gran left it only to her, not to me." Jason wrinkled his brows in lethargic befuddlement.

_Good point. _

"Do you have a family lawyer, Jason?"

"Sid Matt Lancaster," he replied automatically.

"Sid Matt will take care of that part of things," I said soothingly. After I took care of Sid Matt, that is. "I want you to call Sid Matt tomorrow and tell him you want to sell the house as soon as possible. It's been nearly a year since your sister went missing. You can't stand seeing it stand empty like that anymore. You've lost too many people there."

Jason Stackhouse looked genuinely sad as he nodded obediently at me. "I should sell that house," he said slowly. "All my family's gone from there. It hurts me."

I nodded understandingly before directing his compliant mind to forget I had ever been there and to go back to watching whatever sport game he'd had on his TV.

Sid Matt Lancaster was easy to find, and easier to glamour. By the time I left the frail old lawyer, I knew the paperwork on Sookie's house would be altered to my advantage and that Sid Matt would never remember he had done it.

By Labor Day, the house was mine.

**~*E&S*~**

Of course, outside of Pam, no one knew the house was mine and I intended to keep it that way. As far as Jason Stackhouse knew, a real estate company had purchased his sister's house in order to make a quick flip of the house and had paid more than he asked for the selling price in order to expedite things. He hadn't even had to empty the house out, although he had asked if he could pack up his sister's personal belongings and store them until he could pick them up.

The night that the house keys were delivered, I opened the package in my office at Fangtasia. I had just pulled the ring set out when Pam came into the room.

"Ahhh, the keys to the kingdom?" She raised an eyebrow at me. "So now Sookie will be yours if she does return."

I shrugged noncommittally. "Only the house is mine." _For the moment._

"Oh, please." Pam rolled her eyes at me. "If you own the house, you own the human in the house. Now you will simply be able to take her if you wish. It's very efficient."

That _was_ the vampire way to think of it. It wasn't entirely the way _I _was thinking of it, but pointing that out to Pam would just start another argument. And maybe it was the way I _should_ be thinking about it; I wasn't exactly comfortable with the feelings percolating through me.

At least I now had the knowledge that Sookie was part fairy to make those feelings slightly more excusable. If she had been fully human, I would have had to stake myself as a lost cause for a vampire.

I tossed the keys in my hand. "Think I'll go check out my new property," I said lightly. I felt better already.

**~*E&S*~**

The new locks tumbled smoothly; probably the only mechanical thing in the house that was working correctly after nearly a year of neglect. The air inside seemed stale when I opened the door, but I still stopped in the front hallway and inhaled: I could still smell Sookie. It was faint now, but I closed my eyes and concentrated. The one thing I hated about what I was about to do was that her odor would be lost to dozens of new smells, except, perhaps, for whatever items Jason had boxed up.

I found them in the attic: a handful of boxes filled mostly with clothes and "Sookie Stackhouse" scrawled on the outside. I picked up a cotton nightgown with some kind of artwork on it and buried my nose in it. _Sookie. _It had been months since I felt even a tingle of arousal, but as I inhaled the remainder of Sookie's intoxicating scent, my body responded. I rubbed the cotton against my cheek and found myself nearly purring with the pleasure of it. Reluctantly I let the cloth fall back into the box and adjusted my jeans slightly. This was not the time to linger.

Another box in the attic was full of photos and scrapbooks. I flipped through the pictures and paused when I came to a snapshot of Sookie. In the picture she was grinning happily at the camera, her arms tanned and bare against a white summer top while sunlight lit her blonde hair like a halo. I ran my thumb across the image of her face before I slipped the picture into my pocket.

The scrapbooks had what I was hoping for. I flipped through the pages and ultimately selected two of the volumes as what I would need.

Leaving the scrapbooks on a table in the upstairs hallway, I explored the top floor. I dallied the most in what was obviously Sookie's bedroom based on the concentration of her scent even after such a long time. It was clear something violent had happened there; a dresser near the doorway was broken, and the tri-fold mirror over the vanity had been shattered. A dollhouse by the window appeared to have been … blasted by a shotgun. I raised an eyebrow. My Sookie – I delicately tried the phrase out in my mind – routinely got into a lot of trouble already; it was only going to get worse once others knew what she was.

She was going to need protection when she got back, especially now that she was no longer Bill's. If other vampires realized she was part fairy, her desirability as prey would escalate exponentially. And now it appeared she wasn't even safe from her own kind. Between her telepathy, her intoxicating blood and her other fae powers, Sookie had the potential to be an attractive target to just about every supernatural creature known.

I sighed. I had told her at Russell's home that she meant nothing to me. If only it had been true, my life would have been so much simpler.

I had originally wanted her to be mine just because I wanted her (let's not think about how _desperately_ I wanted her), but now I found that I also wanted her to be mine for her own safety. I was the strongest vampire remaining in Louisiana; I could defeat most vampires, most weres and eat any fucking fairies that would come after her. She _needed_ me, even if she didn't realize it yet. And I _needed _to protect her.

That said, I wasn't willing to force her to be mine, even for her own good, although Pam was right: I was strong enough to just take her. But it was important to me that she desired to be mine in return. Not only would it simply be less trouble if she was a willing participant in that relationship, but the truth was that I wanted her to want me as much as I wanted her. I wanted that fiery nature to _choose_ me.

Looking grimly at Sookie's wrecked bedroom, I realized I was going to have to entice her as quickly as I could whenever she returned if I wanted to keep her safe.

As I explored the rest of the house, I took careful note of what remained under the thick coat of grime everywhere. While it would have been easiest to simply gut the house and redecorate, I wanted Sookie to return to something she recognized as _her_ house. In some ways, it would probably cost more to have everything cleaned and restored than simply replaced, but it would be worth it if Sookie was pleased.

One thing surprised – and gratified me – as I searched through the bottom floor of the house. There was no hidden resting place for a vampire; no hidey holes in the closets, under the floorboards, or concealed beneath the staircase.

No vampire, including Bill Compton, had ever had the opportunity to go to ground in this house.

If I had my way, I would be the first vampire – and preferably the only one, ever – to spend the day at rest under Sookie's roof.

**~*E&S*~**

During the weeks that the laborers were working on the house, I would stop by late at night to see how things were progressing, careful to avoid being seen by anyone, especially Bill's security forces. With thoughtful, thorough cleaning and some well-done repairs and painting, not as much had had to be completely replaced as I had originally thought. As the house's interior was restored to a homey splendor it probably had not enjoyed in decades, I was convinced that Sookie would be satisfied with the respect I had shown her home's original décor.

I was hoping that would counteract what was sure to be her ire over the light-tight room I had had built beneath the house.

From the human workers' perspective, it was a "panic room," its access carefully hidden in the sturdily crafted faux armoire to one side of the small sewing room. In a "post-Russell Edgington world," even the humans had a deeper appreciation for higher security measures and if any of them suspected it was a room for a vampire, they kept their speculation to themselves.

I could count on Sookie being outraged at this one major change I had made, but I also believed that eventually she would see reason. For all her sometimes impetuous passions, Sookie was a smart woman and ultimately, I trusted that she would agree that I was her best option for defense. And the most sensible way for me to keep her safe was for me to have somewhere to stay with her during daylight hours. If she were ever to be in danger, I had already circumvented the weeks it would have taken to set up appropriate accommodations for me. That I had conveniently created an alternative to her seeking shelter in Bill's newly refurbished mansion was something I acknowledged but chose not to dwell on.

"My room," as I thought of it, was ready by the end of September. The furnishings were simple: a single-width bed with a quilted leather surface, to which I'd added some faux fur pillows and a throw; an area rug for the cement floor; and a couple of bedside tables. It looked comfortable and masculine but, importantly, didn't look like a chamber intended for seduction. I suspected that if Sookie discovered a lush double bed (blatantly selected with sex in mind) in my hideaway, she'd attempt to stake me before I could even begin persuading her to choose my protection.

Over the course of a couple of nights, I also brought to my new little nook several books, principally those about the fairy realm that I had spent the last few months studying so intently. I'd also begun investigating another topic of interest – blood bonds, particularly between vampires and humans – and added the few books written on that subject to my bedside table.

In the year she had been gone, Sookie was never far from my mind, but spending time surrounded by her things made my imagination dwell on her more than ever. Sometimes I would mentally rehearse what I planned to say to convince her to be mine – and perversely enjoy daydreaming about the likelihood that, Sookie being Sookie, she would argue with me about it. Of course, she would agree in the end since I was obviously coaxing her to do the most logical thing, but I missed our verbal fencing and I was looking forward to doing it again.

The rest of the time, I fantasized about what it would be like if she was finally mine.

The kiss we had shared in my office before everything went to hell in a hand basket with Russell Edgington fueled those fantasies. I had imagined many times before then what it would be like to kiss her, but the reality had surpassed my dreams in the same way a firestorm transcends a mere spark.

As I was making my final goodbyes to her that night, I had told her that if I did not at least kiss her, I would have no bigger regret as I faced the true death. She had resisted at first when I pulled her to me, but as I desperately plundered her lips with my own and buried my hands in her silky hair, she had finally begun to respond. I had been overwhelmed by not only her intoxicating scent and the feel of her body (_her warm lips, her hair tangled in my fingers, her delicate jawline_), but by my own feelings, which surged like a tsunami as soon as we touched. When she had finally pulled away from me, I had been disoriented and stunned. For those few moments, everything else had fallen away and nothing existed but Sookie, and it had taken me a few seconds to reorient myself to reality again.

Now, remembering the power of that kiss, all I could think of was what it might be like to make love to her. I don't know if it was having had her fairy blood or just an indicator of how obsessed I was with her, but even after a year, I could close my eyes and picture her body – a body I had never even seen fully unclothed – in exquisite detail, from the swell of her breasts to the lush curve of her hips.

Whenever my mind went there, my fangs weren't the only thing that sprang to attention.

The most unexpected thing about my fantasies was that even though I had had Sookie's blood and found it the most delectable I had ever tasted, it didn't feature hugely in my daydreams about her. I wanted it, I couldn't deny that, but I wanted her trust more and I knew that treating her like an exotic food would not endear me to her. If one of the conditions of her being mine was to live on blood other than hers, I was willing to comply.

If I ever had the opportunity to claim Sookie Stackhouse as mine, I knew that I would not be satisfied with a short fling. In fact, if I could ever persuade her to agree, I already knew that I'd happily turn her in order to have her around for a long, _long_ time.

**~*E&S*~**

On the one-year anniversary of Sookie's disappearance, I spent the entire night at the house for the first time. It wasn't merely my own sentimentality drawing me there – although I was acutely mindful of the date – but the knowledge that fairy-abducted humans sometimes reappeared at specific times following their disappearances. I kept vigil in Sookie's house, listening for any unexpected sounds in the dark and reading to keep my mind occupied.

She didn't come.

I hadn't realized how much I had hoped she would until I could feel the impending dawn and had to swallow down unexpectedly intense disappointment before flying back to Shreveport. With laborers still working on finishing touches on both the interior and exterior of the house, it wasn't yet safe to stay there during the daylight hours.

The magically significant "year and a day" the next night didn't bring Sookie with it, either.

I spent one more full night at the house (the 'mystical rule of threes' theory was also a bust) before deciding I would have to go back to patiently waiting for Sookie to return in her own time. I still believed with my whole heart that she would. And I would be ready, even if it did take a century.

**~*E&S*~**

Pam had been relieved that my mood had improved since I had begun renovating the house, but I could tell she was still uneasy at the amount of time I was spending on the project. Apparently, she was not the only one keeping tabs on my work habits. Word must have gotten back to Bill that I was not in Fangtasia as much the last few weeks because my king called me to his home several days after the anniversary of Sookie's disappearance.

I had avoided visiting Bill Compton as much as possible since the search for Sookie was officially ended, and whenever I was ordered to make an official appearance at the royal residence, I made an effort to keep our interactions brief. I also sometimes conveniently (or inconveniently, from Bill's perspective) avoided answering my cell phone until it was inescapable. I know he found it annoying, but I didn't care. Not having to go through the motions of respect for him when I was feeling irritable, especially during my darkest period earlier in the year, had been the smartest thing I could do politically. I hadn't trusted myself not to lose my temper (and consequently my head if he wished to ask for it) if he had requested something ludicrous of me.

Fortunately, my attitude had improved along with the progress of the work on my newest property. My recovered ability to control myself around Bill in the last few weeks turned out to be necessary when he finally called me to his office. _Very_ necessary.

"Eric." Bill nodded at me curtly when I arrived. He gestured at one of the large leather chairs opposite his desk and silently gave me permission to sit.

"No thank you, your majesty." I preferred to stand. It tended to make our visits shorter; maybe because Bill had to crane his neck up to look at me if I stood too close to his desk.

My king steepled his fingers together and leaned back in his chair. "I hear that you have been spending time away from Fangtasia the last few weeks. I have to wonder, Eric, since you are no longer working on anything for _me_, exactly what you have been up to that draws you away from your duties?" Bill smiled at me with false cordiality.

After a moment of silence, I replied imperturbably, "I've been … redecorating my house."

Bill raised a skeptical eyebrow at me. But he didn't ask me which property I was referring to.

"It was Pam's idea," I offered. I looked appropriately abashed at being progeny-whipped. "She was inspired by your own renovation efforts and thought I should…try something new." _Channeling my frustrations into something potentially useful, instead of taking them out on her and on Jason Stackhouse,_ was the way she had put it.

"I see." Bill's eyes narrowed at me. "And this has nothing to do with Sookie?"

"Well, when she returns, I do hope she'll like what I've done with the place if she ever gets to see it. And I hope she will," I drawled.

It's amazing how sometimes the truth can sound like a lie if said in the right tone of voice.

Bill snorted in disgust at what he obviously thought was my warped sense of humor.

"It's been over a year, Eric. Have you nothing better to do than to try to—to _yank my chain_ about her?" He looked at me with contempt.

"I still hope she will return," I said with a shrug. "If that is 'yanking your chain,' then I guess, no, I do not have anything better to do."

My king shook his head at me wearily. "Eric, I expect you to quit whatever – _frivolity_ – you have been pursuing and resume your duties at Fangtasia with more enthusiasm."

I said nothing but lowered my eyes to the floor in a pretense of submission. Fangtasia was open every night until 6 a.m., but even Bill couldn't demand I spend all night, every night there. And what was he going to do to force me to obey? Sic his humans on me? Perhaps report my failure to hang out in the bar all night to the Authority, who wouldn't give a fuck?

"How are the new technology policies working out?" Bill briskly changed the subject. "Any problems with enforcement in the bar?"

Bill had introduced several "innovative" policies designed to present humans with the most positive view of vampires after Russell Edgington: no filming of vampires feeding or fighting, or the vampires so filmed would face the true death. There had been a brief attempt to ban filming of vampires fucking as well, but vampire porn was in as much demand as ever, so that effort had died a quick death. So to speak.

"No. We confiscate all phones and cameras at the door as requested. The tourists aren't especially happy about it, but so far, we've only had to destroy a handful of smuggled-in items. There have also been a couple of 'misunderstandings' when humans have retrieved property other than their own when leaving, but we've handled it." Off Bill's look, I added drily, "Retrieval of the stolen property and glamouring of victim and perpetrator. No maiming or death."

Bill nodded in approval. "Good." He moved some papers on his desk. "By the way, you should expect Nan Flanagan to drop by sometime in the next few nights, along with a camera crew."

My turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Public service announcements to feature our kind's friendly intentions towards humans. Since your business is one of the better known vampire-owned enterprises in the state, it would be helpful if you participated."

"I'm sure Pam is going to love that," I murmured.

"See that she does," Bill responded. I must have still looked doubtful, as he added with a grimace, "Well, at least have her _try._ And since there will be cameras, you should both follow the new grooming protocols. A modest suit should do for Pam. Something other than her usual bar wear. And you should get your hair cut. You look more like one of the fangbangers than a business owner."

And, ah, yes, one of the other policies of the new regime: when on camera, be cognizant of the need to look as non-threateningly human as possible. Clean cut was in. And I had to admit that in the depths of my black mood of the last few months, I hadn't given a shit about how my hair looked. It had gotten noticeably longer, although not so long as before the unfortunate incident with the blood that had necessitated its cutting the year before. I was slicking it back with more product than ever, but that was just to keep it out of my way.

"Do I need to wear a suit?" I inquired flatly.

"No. Just keep it professional, but in keeping with your occupation as barkeep." _Barkeep who someday was going to have your barmaid, motherfucker, _I thought grimly. Bill shot me one more pointed look as he dismissed me. "And I mean that in all senses, Sheriff. You can go. And I do mean go straight back to Fangtasia. You have work to do."

"Your majesty." I nodded minimally as I exited. And although I glanced down at my new house as I took off into the night, I did not stop to visit but went straight to back to _my bar_.

**~*E&S*~**

I made a point of being more visible the next few nights at Fangtasia. The house was very close to done in any case; the painters were finishing with a sunny coat of yellow paint on the exterior and landscapers had put in not only a riot of yellow and purple flowers around the edge of the porch, but filled in window boxes as well. The house actually looked lived in, like it was as ready and eager for Sookie to come back to it as I was.

The night before we were scheduled to have Nan Flanagan and her media hounds descend on us, I was able to sneak away for a little while and spend some time at the farmhouse, relaxing in my new room with one of the older books. Unfortunately, that respite was short-lived when Pam called me to say that we had an emergency – some idiot vampire in our area had been filmed feeding, the video had already gone viral on YouTube, and Bill was insisting the "video star" be picked up and brought to the royal mansion ASAP.

It didn't take me too long that night to locate our new "celebrity," as he had simply returned to his home, apparently thinking that what he had done was "not a big deal." I had to agree with his whining that he was just "doing what vampires _do_, man," but my job as Sheriff was to enforce the law, not make it. Bill could explain to him why he deserved to be staked for having a willing back-alley snack.

Of course, I also had to explain to Bill why I hadn't bothered to answer several calls and messages until Pam contacted me. I blithely claimed poor basement reception on my cell, and while I could tell he knew it was bullshit, he didn't call me on it. Following an imperial lecture on my obligation to answer my phone (as well as another reminder about my hair), I was free, but it was already getting close to dawn. I reluctantly bypassed my bed at Sookie's house and headed back to Shreveport for the day. Once the workmen were finally done, I planned on sleeping over now and again to keep an eye on things.

As I settled onto my pallet in Shreveport, I realized I had not fed and was about to go to sleep hungry. Rolling onto my side, I found myself thinking pragmatically that if I did end up sleeping at the new house regularly, I should invest in a microwave. I wasn't going to have the access to willing donors the way I did at Fangtasia, and I wasn't a fan of animal blood, so I would have to acclimate to the occasional Tru-Blood. I grimaced at the thought, but if drinking swill brought me closer to having Sookie, it was worth it.

I made a mental note to order a microwave when I woke up – but when sunset came, it was already too late.

_Sookie was back. _

**A/N: ****Before anyone freaks out over Eric glamouring Jason, I have to confess: in the show, I would be surprised if Eric actually glamoured Jason into selling the house. But "Jason put the house on the market after a year and Eric snapped it up and renovated it in two weeks" is not only less interesting to write about, but is also harder to work out logistically because it still doesn't explain how Jason managed to sell something he didn't own unless Sookie was legally dead. So I made our Sheriff just a little bit badder than he probably really was in canon. We love him anyway, right? **


	5. Out With the Old, In With the New

**A/N: Expect some familiar dialogue from here on out. This is set in show canon, after all. Also, more non-Google-translated **_**italicized Swedish**_**!**

**Also, since I know people are starting to get nervous about the canon aspect of this story and the promised sequel: this story (which will be done shortly) is strictly canon and the sequel will be canon up to a certain point, but then I will do one of two things. If by then, the show gives me something canon to work with that is E/S friendly, I'll do what I can with it. If it doesn't, then AU it is. What you will never, ever read in any of my stories is Sookie really loving Bill again or ultimately rejecting Eric. Period. If I can write that in canon eventually, yay, but if not, then AU it is! I am HEA girl and while I'm enjoying this part of the canon (mostly, although Eric is about let his emotional issues make him act like a twit), that's what I am shooting for long term. So, please, don't be afraid, mina älsklingar. XOXOXOX**

**Chapter 5: Out With the Old, In With the New**

It woke me from my day sleep.

_Sookie._

If the separation of the bond had been a gentle fading, the reconnection was like being hit with a sledge hammer. A tidal wave of feeling (_terror, confusion_) swept over me and pulled me sharply up to consciousness before leveling off and filling the void that had been empty for so long. I could feel an ever-increasing sensation of sorrow and I knew it was not my own because my own emotional responses were overwhelmingly positive. _Elation. Relief. Excitement. _

Especially the excitement. I was almost giddy with it. Sookie was _alive_, just as I had believed, she was back from wherever she had been, and finally I was about to have the opportunity to make her _mine_.

Unfortunately, I could feel that it was still a good half an hour before sunset. No matter how much I wanted to go find her, I was going to have to wait. I threw on some clothes and tidied myself up, although I found myself unable to shave: my hands were too unsteady with anticipation.

The moment the sun was down just after 6:30, I was off, feeling as if I was flying even faster than I had the night she disappeared. As I flew, I could feel the ebb and flow of Sookie's emotions. The sorrow remained, but the confusion had grown worse for a while, and I could feel spikes of disappointment and hurt. I was intrigued by the fact that the bond did not feel as diminished as you might expect after a year – unless, of course, time had not passed for her because she was in Fairy, as I suspected. I was almost dizzy with the suddenness of her return and a sudden anxiety that I was not as prepared as I had hoped to be. As I drew closer, I made an effort to calm myself. I was Eric fucking Northman and I would not act like an overeager teenager.

Especially since Bill, unsurprisingly, had beaten me to Sookie's house. As I touched down on the driveway leading to her house, I could hear his voice. "It was as if –" I could hear the painful hesitation in my king's voice as he finally grated out in a whisper, "I thought you had died."

_As he had shown by how quickly he had moved on. _For all the shit I had taken from him for not doing so myself, I couldn't help but feel the satisfaction of knowing my instincts about Sookie had been right when everyone else had believed otherwise.

"Well, I knew you weren't dead." I strolled out of the dark and I could finally see her, standing on her porch in the same pale blue sundress she had been wearing when she ousted both Bill and I out of her life the year before. Another hint that I was probably right about where she had been, which made me feel out and out smug. I was too far away from her physically to be sure, but I also thought I could smell the intoxicating scent of other fae clinging to her.

God, she was beautiful. I hadn't forgotten, but there is a difference between looking at a picture and the real thing. She was breath-taking.

Bill turned towards me, snapping. "Eric, not now!"

I focused on Sookie, directing my words to her as if we were alone. "I never lost hope." She looked startled and somewhat puzzled. The expression on her face reminded me that she would have no way of knowing what had taken me a year to grasp myself – I really did care for her, even if I didn't feel comfortable probing my psyche more deeply than that.

Bill snarled. "Don't you have an obligation to Fangtasia?"

I wanted to focus on Sookie, drinking in the sight of her, but Bill was clearly not giving up, so I glanced at him. I tucked my hands into my pockets, determined not to budge unless ordered. "Not right now," I replied calmly. The bar wouldn't open until 8 p.m. and there would normally be no reason for me to be there just yet, although I suddenly remembered Nan Flanagan and her media crew. Fuck.

Bill spoke over me sharply, "I believe you do."

"Pam can handle it."

"I specifically warned you–" he began harshly.

I did my best to sound appropriately respectful even as I cut him off. "I appreciate your concern, but we're fine, thank you."

"Eric, GO!" Bill bellowed. There was no denying that _that_ was a royal command.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I had no choice but to follow a direct order.

"Apparently, I have to go," I murmured, directing my gaze back to Sookie. But I wasn't going to go without leaving her something to think about, something that conveyed my devotion to her. "But understand this: everyone who _claims_ to love you – your friends, your brother –" I glanced at Bill, thinking of him and his red-headed security treat. " – even Bill Compton –"

Sookie shot Bill a quick look but then turned her eyes back to me as I continued, "They all gave up on you." My eyes never breaking from Sookie's, I enunciated the last words with deliberation. "_I. Never. Did._"

Sookie's mouth opened slightly in surprise and she glanced again at Bill as if weighing what I had just said.

As I turned to follow Bill's order, I smiled slightly as the cheerful new color of the house caught my eye. "Nice paints," I said lightly before zipping off into the night. I hoped Sookie would like them as much I did.

**~*E&S*~**

To judge by the feelings I was getting through my bond with Pam, the filming wasn't going well back at Fangtasia.

As I came in, I could hear my progeny drawling wearily, "Human families have nothing to fear with vampire-owned businesses." The boredom in her voice didn't even do justice to what I was feeling through our connection.

Nan Flanagan sounded positively eager to see me, which was a first. "Stop! Cut! _That_ is the man we want!"

"What, Pam not so good?" I murmured, spotting a clipboard with suggested "talking points" lying on the bar. I picked it up and began to flip through the sheets.

"She was fine – if you happen to be blind, deaf and an idiot," Nan sniped.

"What's _idiotic_ is that the AVL believes the public to be so naïve," Pam snarked back.

"I have proof – scientific – people are far dumber than they realize," Nan countered matter-of-factly.

The talking points were the usual AVL spin. _We're tax paying Americans_, _vampires are as different from each other as humans are because we used to _be_ humans_, _politicians could not be trusted_, blah blah blah. There were even a couple of suggested tag lines for Fangtasia specifically. "_The blood is warm and so is the service"_ and _"We're happy to serve humans at Fangtasia – and I don't mean for dinner."_

Normally this kind of PR pabulum would have made me cringe, but Sookie's return had put me in a charitable mood. I tossed the pages down and started around the bar as Nan bleated on about a post-Russell Edgington world and "winning back the human public one smile at a time." _Without fangs, I'm sure._

Pulling Pam's microphone off and attaching it to myself, I shooed her away, cracked my neck and settled in for my own turn in front of the cameras. Buoyed by my optimistic mood, I launched into a smooth monologue that challenged viewers to judge for themselves who better deserved their trust: earnest small business owners like myself or politicians, whose motives were always suspect.

I was well aware of the irony of ranting against politicians while being forced to speak at the behest of the vampire political establishment, but, as Nan said, I knew how to play this game.

Off to the side, I could see Pam's eyebrow go up; she had obviously taken note of the thinly veiled digs inherent in my "impromptu" speech.

Nan was delighted, which meant she was either tone-deaf to the undercurrents of what I said or she no longer cared, so long as she ended up with something watchable after Pam's tortured attempts.

"Good work, Northman," Nan said. "Next time, get a decent haircut and shave before appearing on camera. I'm willing to let the grooming standard slide on this one because you came across as … _genuine._" She gestured brusquely at my stubble. "I suppose we can argue that you look like an average American club owner if it is questioned." She smirked at me as if she thought she was being witty. What a card.

As I watched her stalk away, I smirked in turn. Trusted sources had told me that Nan Flanagan's influence with the Authority was coming to an end; her days of ludicrously micromanaging vampire grooming habits would soon be finished. _Trim that, bitch._

Pam sidled over to me as the camera crew packed up and Nan scurried away to be a thorn in some other vampire's side. _"My, aren't you in a good mood,"_ my progeny said in Swedish. _"Anything I should know about?"_

I smiled at her, waiting until I was sure Nan had left the building. As soon as I heard her depart in her SUV, I replied with a fulsome grin. _"You know I'm always happy when I'm proved right." _The camera crew may not have had vamp hearing, but they did speak English, so I answered in Swedish.

Pam paused and I could sense her surprise. _"Sookie? She's back?"_ She obviously hadn't really believed Sookie would return. _"She was with the fairies as you suspected?"_ Pam looked intrigued.

"_She hasn't said, but there are clues." _I went on to explain Sookie's unchanged clothes, the continued strength of our bond, and that faint whiff of fairy scent on the air.

"_Well, if she knows what's good for her, she'll become yours __**very **__quickly," _Pam sniffed._ "Or she may not get a chance to enjoy that new retro décor." _She looked at me seriously. _"Eric, I know you want to give her a choice in the matter – although I can't for the life of me understand why – but don't you think that is just asking for trouble? If she says no, she's a fool anyhow and deserves what she gets." _

"_I don't want to force her –"_

"_And we can see how well that worked the last time, with Edgington, where you ended up forcing her __**anyway**__!" _Pam cut me off._ "Eric, Sookie is a stubborn, willful person. If you want her, you should just take her. It's for her own good and it's foolish and risky of you to give her choice in the matter. She'll get used to being yours once you claim her. And if she doesn't – well, she can live with the consequences. Or die – whatever. But at least you might have a chance to be satisfied before she throws herself under the proverbial bus." _

I hadn't realized how frustrated Pam was by my interest in Sookie, but I could feel it burning through our bond. She was impatient with the entire thing.

"_Let me try it my way first." _ I said calmly. I didn't want anything to spoil my good mood, so I changed the topic to something less controversial. "Hey," I said in English, watching as the camera crew finally left through the front door. "Evidently, I need to get a haircut ASAP. Can you do it?"

Happy to follow the abrupt change in direction, Pam ran her hands through my gelled hair in assessment before pursing her lips. "Will tomorrow be soon enough? I need to change before we open tonight. I don't think the patrons are looking forward to me in wool." She gestured disparagingly at the AVL-approved suit.

I shrugged. "Fine."

As Pam reached the doorway leading to the back she turned with a smirk. "If you're going to be commuting back and forth to Bon Temps regularly, a shorter cut might be wise. You know how your hair gets when you fly."

I snorted – but felt for cowlicks, which made Pam laugh. For the first time in nearly a year, I felt like laughing, too.

**~*E&S*~**

When I rose for the night, there was a message waiting for me from the answering service that handled any calls that came in from my various business holdings. A Portia Bellefleur of the Lancaster & Bellefleur law offices in Bon Temps had tried to contact AIK about its recent purchase of the Stackhouse property.

My Sookie hadn't wasted any time in trying to get her house back. Not even back 24 hours and already she was checking her legal options. Damn.

If anyone examined the paper trail too closely, I'm sure it would be determined that what I'd had Sid Matt Lancaster do to sell the house to me was illegal as hell. While financial reimbursement for the renovations I had ordered might slow the transfer process down a shade, I didn't doubt for a second that the ownership of the house would be returned to Sookie very quickly if fraud was discovered by human authorities. That might happen more quickly than I expected if Ms. Bellefleur checked her own partner's records.

The clock was now ticking in earnest and I wished there were a way for me to buy time as easily as I could buy property.

I had always planned to tell Sookie I had bought her house, but I had hoped to have a few days to build more trust between us first so that she might not be entirely furious when she found out. My Sookie had moved so quickly that I was going to be forced to confess before I had laid that groundwork.

The best solution was to tell her the truth as soon as possible and then hope that I convinced her to place herself under my protection that much more quickly.

I was still readjusting to the physical sensation of our renewed bond and the titillation of a living and present Sookie being the source of those feelings. Although what I detected through our connection was not sensual in nature _(yet)_, the simple fact that I could feel her again was edging me towards a near constant state of stimulation. As I flew towards _"our"_ house, I savored the relatively steady hum of her current mood.

Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all. She felt…okay at the moment.

As I entered the front door using my house key, I could hear an upstairs shower being shut off. By the time I was going up the staircase, I could follow the soft pad of her bare feet and the screech of furniture being nudged forcefully across the floor. I smiled to myself; my Sookie was never going to be one to accept things exactly as they were presented to her.

I hesitated briefly in the doorway, trying not to startle her. She stood by the window-seat, wrapped in a short ice-blue robe, her blond hair hanging in a damp tangle down her back. As I moved quietly towards the center of the room behind her, she pulled out a pink gown of some kind and began to shrug off the robe, tossing it absently backwards toward me.

I caught it in my right hand instinctively, which was a good thing as my eyes were riveted solely on her.

_My Sookie was naked. _

I could smell the perfume of whatever soap she had used on her hair and her body, but it wasn't enough to obscure her own tantalizing scent. Her back was a sun-kissed expanse of tanned skin, and I caught a glimpse of the edge of one breast, but what truly killed me were her hips. From behind, I could follow the generous way that they curved out from her slim waist and I could already imagine how my hands would look as I grasped them.

And, Oh. My. Fucking. God. Her _ass._

For centuries, I have had my pick of women, but never in all that time had I spent an entire _year_ (or, to be honest, longer) trying to envision what one might look like under her clothes. Except for this woman. I was amazed to find that even with nothing to refer to for so many months, my imagination had drawn a staggeringly accurate portrait of her body.

Sookie finally sensed me behind her and she whirled around with a gasp. "What the HELL?"

I guess that half-glimpsed breast was all I would see for the moment; in a lightning fast move (for a human), Sookie had covered the front of her body from breasts to the top of her thighs with the scrap of pink fabric. "Excuse me?" she snapped. The gown was upside down, so she would to move it at some point, but I enjoyed studying her bared shoulders and legs.

I found myself growling appreciatively as I absent-mindedly fondled the material in my hands. "Mmmmm. Such a strange sensation when the reality matches what you pictured in your mind so precisely."

Sookie twitched the bottom edge of the gown against her thigh, trying to hide a glorious hip. "Is this another dream?" she finally blurted nervously, shifting her hands so that both were clutching the gown at the top of her chest. Fortunately for me, this allowed the bottom part of the gown to shift, exposing that lovely hip again. "It's been a year – how much of your blood is left in me?"

I wondered how long it had actually been for her; surely not the year I had spent waiting for her to return, especially with my blood inside her still strong enough to reach out to me. But if she wanted to hide the secret of how long she felt she was gone, that was fine – for now. It wasn't the kind of information she should share with just anyone and I approved her self-preservation in not telling me, so there was no point in arguing.

"It's not a dream, I assure you." I gave her a small half-smile as I finally pulled my gaze up to face. I had many dreams about Sookie while she was gone and in them, she had always been not only willing but even sweetly eager to reach out to me. No, a Sookie who was modestly hiding from my scrutiny rather than throwing her gown off and embracing me was definitely the Real Thing.

"Then how are you here?" Sookie snapped. "I rescinded your invitation."

It didn't seem like a good time to go into her mistaken notion, especially since it was no longer relevant.

"You don't own the house anymore," I explained matter-of-factly. My eyes never left Sookie's as I pulled the key out of my pocket and held it up near my head to show her the proof I knew she would require. "I do."

She clutched the gown more tightly to her as she burst out, "Why would you do that? Why would you buy my house?"

_Because I wanted to fix your broken window that your dickhead brother didn't take care of. _

The truth was going to make me sound like a pussy, so I went with cold, hard logic. Vampire logic, to remind me what my motivations _should_ be.

"Because I always knew you were alive. And if I owned the house –" I broke eye contact with her for the first time, glancing down to the right as I sought the most reasonable alternative to the truth and then shrugged as if were the only logical conclusion when I found it. "—well, then I would own _you_."

As soon as I said it, I knew it was a poor choice of words. I felt a bolt of fury from Sookie. I also didn't like the internal wince I experienced when I felt it. I wasn't used to caring about humans' emotional responses to me.

Fuck _agreement_, I suddenly thought in frustration. What kind of vampire asks permission of a human pet, anyhow? I was desperate to protect her and it was for her own good, goddamn it. It was already beyond the pale for me to be concerned with her feelings, much less to submit to her will in any of this.

Maybe Pam was right. I should just tell her she was mine and deal with her reaction. All of this begging for her acquiescence was dangerously weak.

I tossed Sookie's robe to the right and started to stride across the room towards her like a lion stalking a gazelle.

"Sookie," I growled at her as I paced closer. _"You. Are. MINE."_ I popped my fangs for emphasis, thinking about what I would do to anyone who dared to try to harm Sookie.

Unfortunately, I only succeeded in scaring her. I felt a surge of raw terror from her as she gulped and then bolted for the door.

She snatched the robe up from where I had dropped it as she sprinted past me and hastily shrugged it back on. I followed her out of the room and she hissed, "Stay away from me!" as she pounded down the staircase, pulling at the tie on her robe.

At vamp speed, I leaped over the railing to the hallway below to block her progress, but careful not to touch her. "This is no way to treat your new landlord," I said lightly, hoping to draw her into banter. I had missed our verbal sparring and I hoped that my tone would reassure her I meant her no harm.

However, Sookie's mood was anything but playful. She jerked the belt to her robe tight around her waist and then balled up her fists in fury. "I am _not yours_ and I want you out of my house NOW!"

If the house had still been hers, I would have been sent flying involuntarily out the door at her words, but I stayed firmly planted right where I was. There were many things Sookie could make me do _(put myself at risk to protect her, strain my relationship with Pam on her behalf, experience these goddamn disturbing feelings)_ but making me leave this building was not one of them. "Funny about ownership, isn't it? A little piece of paper and the _only power_ you had over me is _gone._" I raised my chin and smirked, embracing my empowerment, especially after the past year, during which I had so often felt I could control so little.

Sookie glared up at me. "What do you want from me?"

"Everything." My mind flashed back to Sookie's nude body and I may have sounded a little husky as I answered.

"You can't have it." Her voice was a dash of cold water on the fantasy that had already started to unspool in my mind.

"I bought it," I bit out, frustrated by how the conversation was going.

"You bought my house. The house does not come with me inside it."

"Well, then I seriously overpaid," I drawled. Between the increase over Jason Stackhouse's asking price and the improvements, I had in fact spent $75,000 more than the house's official value. Worth every penny – but only if Sookie was pleased with me as a result.

"That's your problem," Sookie snapped, turning from me and heading hastily towards the dining room.

So much for the "tell her she's yours and she'll get over it" plan. Back to Plan A: logical persuasion.

"Your blood tastes like freedom, Sookie." I don't know if it was my choice of words or the passion with which I spoke that made her stop in the doorway and turn to listen to me, but I suddenly had her interest again. "Like sunshine in a pretty blonde bottle," I added drily.

She flinched, clearly disturbed. It felt as if she had been so angry with me about the house that she had forgotten about the risk her fairy blood put her in with my kind.

I continued to spell it out for her. "And while they may not know it yet, that is what vampires smell when they smell you. "

Her eyes narrowed at me. "Is that a threat?"

"Absolutely not," I replied. "But others WILL find out. And when they do … you'll need protection." I paused to let her reflect on the reality of what I was saying before adding what I considered my ace-in-the-hole point: "_I can provide that for you._" The logic was so clear, so simple, so obvious, she could not help but agree with me, I was certain. I raised my chin as I waited for her to concede I was right. Any moment now…

"I'm willing to take my chances," she said blithely before turning sharply away from me again and heading through the dining room.

Fuck.

I zipped around her at vamp speed. I caught it as she rolled her eyes at me, so I was careful to stop at a fair distance in front of her, giving her enough space that I hoped she would not feel threatened. If I was going to make a bid to be her protector, I needed to make sure she understood that _I _was not the threat here.

If I was going to be subject to these ridiculous _feelings_, maybe they could be at least be useful to me. "I bought this house because I _care _about you," I said sincerely. She stopped and looked up at me, listening. I could feel the fear slipping away and I knew that she believed what I was telling her.

"If all I wanted was to taste your blood again, I could do it right now and there wouldn't be a thing you could do to stop me," I continued. She didn't even flinch; the fear was definitely gone. "But instead I am _asking _you to be mine." Sookie could have no idea how far outside my "comfort zone" this was.

"I could NEVER be with you the way I was with Bill." She gave me a contemptuous look before turning again to walk away.

I wondered if she ever did become mine, whether I would continue to have to spend this much time chasing her. I appreciate pursuit as much as the next vampire, but the fun is in the actual capture and I knew I wasn't going to have that tonight.

"The first time Bill declared you his, how did it make you feel?" I inquired of her retreating back.

She turned as she reached the kitchen and snapped out an answer. "Angry." Well, good, then all this drama wasn't just for me, but for any male that tried to claim my independent fairy. I felt better already.

I raised my eyebrows at her and pressed the point. "But _safe_?"

She looked down, unable to meet my eyes, as tacit an admission that I was right as I was likely to get from the stubborn woman.

"You'll come around," I said in satisfaction.

"You're not listening to a word I'm saying!"

I cut her protest off as I strolled past her towards the door. "I know you. There are _two_ Sookie Stackhouses. One who clings to the idea that she is merely human…" I stopped and faced her, meeting her eyes to know that despite my light tone, I was serious about what I was saying. "And the other that is coming to grips with the fact that YOU are BETTER than that." At least if she was more than human, my _caring_ for her wouldn't be utterly ridiculous.

Sookie was staring at me incredulously. "And what do you think is going to happen when I DO come to grips with it?" She raised her eyebrows and batted her eyelashes at me. "Do you think my legs are just going to magically open for you?" she drawled sarcastically.

Oh, now _there_ was a thought. Thanks to my recent view of her naked figure, I could picture that somewhat more clearly than previously.

I grinned at her. "Well, THAT was saucy. Must have been Fairy Sookie talking. I like when she comes out."

I felt the wave of embarrassment even as Sookie was closing her eyes with regret for her brazenness. "And … I'm already sorry I said it."

"Don't be. The more you let her speak for you, the likelier you are to go on living. And you want to live, don't you?" I was pushing, I knew it, but I wanted to leave her with thoughts of what was at stake.

Once again, she answered by refusing to answer, glancing down before looking up again to meet my eyes. Oh, yes, my Sookie wanted to live. And logically, that meant considering my offer seriously.

I smiled. "Well, then, I hope to hear from you girls soon," I said cheerfully. The conversation may not have started well, but I was pleased with where it had ended up. She knew where she stood with me; the choice was now in her hands and I had given her something to think about. I trusted she would eventually see reason.

As I opened the back door of her kitchen, it swung too freely. I tested its play with my hand, dissatisfied with what I found. As her "landlord," it was my responsibility. "I'll see to it that gets repaired," I called out before I exited at vamp speed into the darkness.

**~*E&S*~**

I was as good as my word; as soon as I was back in Shreveport, I arranged for someone to fix Sookie's kitchen door while she was out the next day. I also optimistically ordered a sizeable new microwave to be delivered and set up in her kitchen. Even if I never had a chance to use it, it was a practical gift and I knew Sookie was the kind of woman to appreciate practical.

As the night wore on, I paid attention to the feelings I was receiving from my bond with Sookie. There was still a lot of anger, and the fear had returned, although at a lower level. I tried to think through what she might be afraid of. I thought I had been clear that I would protect her from anyone who wanted to harm her. That only left the possibility that she was still afraid of _me._

Perhaps, despite my assurances that if I wanted to simply drink her, I'd have done it already, she was still worried about sustained feeding if she were mine. I frowned, thinking of how I could reassure her that she was safe from my fangs. It was while Pam was finally cutting my hair that I was struck with what I thought was a brilliant idea.

Waiting until Pam had cleaned me up and departed with her scissors, I added to my work order for the next day by asking for a decanter with high quality blood to be left in Sookie's fridge. Obviously, it wasn't a gift in the traditional sense, but I hoped she would understand the message it conveyed: I was willing to live on bagged or bottled blood if that was what she asked of me. Traditionally, to declare a human _theirs_ was fundamentally a vampire's claim to exclusive feeding rights. No other vampires could drink from the human; in turn, the vampire would feed regularly – sometimes solely – on what was _his _or_ hers._

I wanted it to be clear to Sookie that when I asked her to be mine, I was not going to demand the right to feed from her as a given. I would voluntarily get my blood from other sources (although I was reluctant to promise to drink the repellent Tru-Blood unless it was a dire situation) if that was what she wanted. I would be delighted if she offered me her own delectable blood to drink, but drinking her blood was not the point.

Not that I had any plans to explain _what the point was_ to other vampires, even to my beloved Pam. I had a hard enough time articulating to myself why I wanted so desperately to claim someone as mine when feeding on her was not guaranteed. It sounded ridiculous, even to me.

And yet, I was planning on doing exactly that.

And if she didn't understand the message of the bottle, well, I'd be happy to demonstrate for her by stopping by again the next night and showing her how far I was willing to accommodate her. I'd drink the damn blood cold if it would prove the point.

As I mulled my next steps in claiming (_Seducing? Courting?_) Sookie, I thought of one more thing I wanted to do before I went to sleep for the day. Now that the secret of who actually owned the house was out, I took pleasure in being able to acknowledge that I was giving her gifts. I could hardly slap a gift card on the entire house at this point (although I certainly viewed everything but my safe room as done solely for her benefit) but I could ask for both the door and the kitchen equipment to be identified as gifts. I ordered large red bows for both, and then I grinned a little to myself as I dictated what the cards were to say. For the card on the door, I requested, "Out with the old…" and on the microwave "…In with the new. You like?"

I always enjoyed a good pun. And in this case, the words were highly symbolic in a broader sense.

_The old:_ the half-destroyed house, a dangerously exposed Sookie, and her deceit-based relationship with Bill.

_The new:_ a home fit for a fairy princess, protection by the most capable vampire in the state, and, well, my … _caring_.

As I felt the sun pull me into my next cycle of death-like sleep, I was looking forward to what I hoped would be a new start for the two of us the next time I saw her.

**A/N: I hate that Eric was kind of a prick when he showed up in her bedroom, but I'm trying to get inside his head here to understand why he would be that way. That said, I think the "real reason" he behaved so obnoxiously was that the show writers needed some reason for Sookie to be genuinely nervous when she found him on the side of the road the next night. Otherwise, the audience wouldn't have been as nervous for her having that big, amnesiac Viking in the car. This is, btw, probably the last bit of difficult-to -tolerate canon you will read. Everything from here on out will be either positive tweaking on actual canon or go to AU if I just can't make that happen. Thanks for reading! **


	6. She's Not There Reprise

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who has favorited/alerted/reviewed this story. I'm blown away that people are being so great about a story that is an attempt at interpreting canon. This is the last chapter for what has turned into a kind of "prequel," but I'm picking up the story immediately with a sequel, _He's Not There_. You'll understand why that title by the end of this chapter. That will also remain set in screen canon, but I'll most likely go AU in a part III because even fanwanking like mad can't make the final part of season 4 a fun thing for an E/S shipper and I'm not THAT big a martyr. The sequel will not update as quickly as this one did since I'm still writing it, though, so please be forewarned. XOXOXOXO**

**Chapter 6: She's Not There (Reprise)**

The terror jolted me out of my day-time sleep, if only for a few seconds.

Whatever had frightened Sookie, it was short-lived because the sensation died right away and while I paused for a few moments to see if it came back, it wasn't long before I slipped back into unconsciousness for the rest of the day.

When I finally awoke that evening, I remembered that brief rush of panic and immediately felt for Sookie through our bond. She was definitely angry about something and there was still some fear, but it lacked the intensity of whatever had made me stir earlier. I relaxed a little; whatever the crisis had been, it seemed to be over.

I was still lying on my bed, debating whether I should stop by and check in on her (and perhaps to see what she thought of my little gifts) when my cellphone beeped. It was a text from Bill ordering me to meet him at his mansion as soon as I was available. "Before you do ANYTHING else, Eric."

The decision about stopping at Sookie's – _my_ house – was made for me. After all, I was going to be in the neighborhood.

**~*E&S*~**

As I flew towards Bon Temps, I was irritated to realize I was apparently moving further away from Sookie, not closer. I wondered if she had gone to Shreveport for some reason, maybe to Fangtasia. I was tempted to turn back, but conscious of Bill's command, continued on towards the royal mansion.

Pompous little prick.

I cheated when I got to Bon Temps; I quickly popped into the house just to see if I could pick up any clues about what had happened to upset Sookie. Bill could wait the extra minute or two it would take.

I didn't see anything that would have frightened her, but it didn't take much to figure out the probable cause of the anger: the door to my safe room was standing open.

A quick check of the kitchen showed that the back door was fixed as I had requested but the decanter of blood had been emptied down the sink. Sookie hadn't even rinsed the bottle, but left the coagulated mess sitting in the sideboard.

So much for my offer to drink bottled blood for her sake.

The feeling I was experiencing was one I couldn't even remember well from my human life, much less my vampire one. I think I was…hurt. There was an actual physical sensation, like a sting in my chest that crept towards my throat.

Needless to say, I wasn't in the best of moods when I appeared in Bill's study a few minutes later.

Bill was seated behind his desk, studying paperwork when I arrived. He glanced up and said with a transparently false geniality, "Thank you for coming."

"Of course," I said with equally faked politeness through a clenched jaw. I strolled in and stood between the guest chairs and his desk so that I loomed over him.

Despite my irritable mood, I kept my expression carefully impassive. One didn't survive to my age by being anything less than cautious.

I suspected we were about to discuss my new property. He was within his rights as my king to order me to give up the house, but I hoped he realized I would fight him all the way to the Authority on this matter. Not only did I have backing there, but neither of us would want to bring Sookie to the Authority's attention unnecessarily. Or so I was hoping.

"I understand you bought Sookie's house." Bill's tone was light and cordial, as if he was discussing an amusing prank I had pulled. He asked brightly, "Any chance I could convince you to sell it back to her?"

"No." I bit the word out, wanting to make it clear from the beginning that this would not be a negotiation. If he wanted me to give up Sookie's house, he was going to have to find an ugly way to force me. I wasn't going to lay down for him like some bitch in heat.

"To me then?" Bill Compton actually leaned forward and winked at me.

"No." Had Bill really expected this approach to work? I was not one of his human acolytes whose panties could be expected to drop at a charming smile.

My king chuckled to himself as if I had just made a predictable move. I wasn't sure what game he was playing, but as far as I was concerned, it was over. Game, set, match.

"All right? So we're good." I turned to walk away. I was anxious to get back to _my_ house. I wanted to talk to Sookie, to at least explain what I had meant by the decanter of blood.

"There's a new coven in town—" Bill said loudly just before I reached the door.

"Oooooh, nooooo, witches," I said in mock horror. With the increased interest in paganism in the last thirty years, there were more so-called "witches" in America than ever before, but most of them were harmless nature-worshippers. They generally had little interest in vampires between their "live and let live" (so to speak) beliefs and our lack of the "life energy" on which their magical practices drew.

"— based out of a Wicca shop not far from here," Bill continued. "Called Moon Goddess Emporium."

Oh, for Goddess's sake. I had a pissed off fairy tenant to talk to. "I'll put Pam on it," I said dismissively, turning again towards the door.

"You will do it yourself," Bill said sharply. I stopped in the doorway, frustrated and annoyed that my valuable time was being wasted on what was most likely hippy-dippy bullshit.

"They are necromancers, Eric."

Okay, _that_ deserved my attention. Necromancy was the practice of death magic. I turned to look at Bill warily.

"They brought a bird back from the dead," Bill's said gravely.

A bird was a small creature, but it was definitely a step in the wrong direction. If these witches' experiments continued to escalate, vampires could be in serious trouble.

"Are you certain of this?" Perhaps it was just a rumor. It was getting close to Halloween; maybe it was the anxious imagination of neighbors fearful of an unfamiliar religion.

"I had someone on the inside," Bill said matter-of-factly. Just as I was taking him seriously (for a change), he ruined the mood by adding superciliously, "I hope I don't have to impress upon you the implications of this."

Having someone less than a fifth my age speak to me as if I were ignorant of history I had actually _lived_ irked me.

"You do not," I responded sharply.

Bill belabored the point. "If they can control the dead, then they can control us."

Well, yes, you fucking idiot, that is what _necromancy_ means since vampires are, technically speaking, _dead_. The danger of necromancers was 400-year-old news to me.

"You remember the Inquisition? I was around back then," I said pointedly.

I had not been present at the massacre at Logroño, but it was notorious among our kind. A 17th century necromancer in Spain had compelled all the vampires within a 20 miles radius to walk into the sunlight _on their own _via a spell. My fellow Sheriff, Luis of Area 3, had told me tales of how his maker had burned in the sun and how he would have as well if he had not been in Granada at the time. I had actually thought of Logroño at one point while I was lying burning in Fangtasia's parking lot with Russell Edgington, thinking of the ironies in my voluntarily meeting the sun without being forced to by either that insane human church group or a sorcerer's spell.

"Excellent." Bill stood and then demanded sarcastically, "Now will you deal with this yourself or is it still beneath you?"

_Dealing with this_ could potentially lead to a human death if the necromancy was serious. And killing humans without Authority permission was a sure way to earn myself an official execution. I didn't have a crown to hide behind and I didn't for a moment trust Bill to back a decision to use lethal force with higher ups.

I stepped back and folded my hands together in front of me. "Has the AVL signed off on this?" I asked rather acerbically.

Bill spat his response at me. "I am the _King of Louisiana_! I don't have to ask anyone for permission."

Somehow I didn't think Nan Flanagan would agree with that. That Bill was so vehement made me think he didn't really believe it, either.

I weighed my risk vs. my obligation and found that my duties as Sheriff won out. If the Authority was unhappy and Bill would not vouch for me, I still had act in the best interests of all my area. However big a fool I found my king to be, necromancers were a serious threat that I needed to address quickly. "I will go tonight," I finally agreed. Bill was an ass, but the risk was a real one.

In keeping with Bill's self-importance, I bowed to my king with an elaborately obsequious flourish of my hand. "_My king_."

Bill snorted at my mockery and his own tone was just as flippant. "Thank you, Sheriff."

As I started out the door, I shook my head bitterly at the idea that I had to dance attendance on this vapid little politician.

In the hallway outside Bill's office, the redheaded security team member from the previous winter stood holding a small slip of paper. "Sheriff Northman, his majesty said you would want the address for Moon Goddess Emporium and the name of the coven leader, which is Marnie. They should be meeting even as we speak."

I nodded my thanks, distracted by the smell of Bill on the woman, the strength of which told me they had fucked very recently – definitely after Sookie had returned. While it was in my best interests to be certain Bill had moved on, I failed to understand his motivation. Now that Sookie was back, the supposed love of his life, how could he even get it up for some other human? It just proved to me how very unworthy he was of Sookie.

I took one last flight around Sookie's home before starting toward the Wicca shop, but she was still not there. It was probably just as well since I had to deal with the witches first. But as soon as I was done, I hoped to come to Sookie again and have another talk about what I could offer her. Strangely, leaving the house, even without Sookie inside, made me feel as if I was leaving the place where I most wanted to be.

**~*E&S*~**

It had rained while I was at Bill's and the streets of the city were shining and wet. I found the store easily enough and ignored a dark figure that stood outside talking on the phone as I vamp sped to the alley behind the building.

As I was approaching the back room where the group had gathered, trying to decipher a strange little tingle I felt, I heard a voice say in disbelief, "Where the fuck y'all going to get a _dead body_?"

From raising a bird to considering raising a dead human in 24 hours? These were ambitious witches. Not a good sign. I was going to have to _impress_ upon them how very unwise their latest idea was.

I decided I needed to make an intimidating entrance, so I drew on one of my gifts. Using only my will, I blew the double set of doors to their meeting room wide open, dropping my head in concentration and throwing my arms out dramatically in emphasis as the heavy panels slammed to either side of the door frame. The sound alone would have startled anyone, but I like to think the sight of all 6'4" of me, clad in black leather, added visual trepidation.

"Excuse me," I said with false civility before striding into the room. A group of about a dozen men and women were gathered in a circle on a variety of low stools, cushions and mats. At the edges of the room, clusters of candles provided the only light. The so-called witches looked very docile for a group dabbling in death magic and I began to feel more comfortable that they were still in the early stages of whatever exploration they had been doing. Frightening them into behaving should be easy-peasy, as my Sookie would say.

I put my hands together primly in front of me like a supplicant and leaned forward, ducking my head in what I thought of as a human way. It would keep them off center for a few seconds more. "Y'all looking for a dead body?" I inquired in my most down-home Louisiana accent.

_You wanted a dead body, you got a dead body, bitches._ I popped my fangs and snarled, causing a breathless gasp from the entire group. The gasp made me relax a little – it was the reaction of a group of startled does, not hardened sorcerers.

To my right, a dark-skinned man with a bandana on his head had jumped up, cursing, when I flashed my fangs, and I recognized Sookie's friend Lafayette. His presence explained the mild little tingle of I had felt before entering the room, as he had had my blood the year before. Our connection had considerably weakened, but I could still feel it as his fear of me was reactivated. His right hand rested for reassurance on the shoulder of a dark-haired man who remained on the floor and I knew by their scents that this was the former V-dealer's lover.

"Oh, Lafayette," I purred. "I didn't know you were a witch." Very intriguing, indeed. Something to file away for future use, but not until the entire coven understood that _necromancy_ was not a form of witchcraft to be tolerated in my area.

I ambled further into the circle, pausing to put out a red-glass votive candle with my boot. Time to get down to business. I wanted to track down Sookie for our little tête-à-tête and I was beginning to hope this might not take as long as I had originally feared. With any luck, I'd be done and out of here in just a few minutes. Flown away like a bird, so to speak.

"I'm told your leader's name is Marnie," I said by way of an opening gambit. The name had struck me because I knew its meaning: _by the sea_. Fleetingly, I pictured a long-ago beach where I had played as a child, my bare feet running along wet sand and the wind off the ocean pushing against my back. I had always loved the water and I suddenly wondered if Sookie had ever seen the ocean.

I'd ask her eventually, but first I had to sort out this mystical mess.

A blonde witch with long hair spoke up while a plump, older redhead looked on anxiously from behind her. "Really? Who told you that?" The witch sounded defiant and perhaps a little suspicious. I wondered who Bill's inside source had been and if the witches were now thinking of who among their group was conveniently missing tonight. I knew what vampires did to traitors; I wondered what witches did to theirs.

"Oh, let's just say – uh –" I grinned as I thought of a relevant pun, "A little bird did."

There were a couple of uncomfortable tics among the witches, and the dark-haired man beside Lafayette looked angry, which told me that however innocuous the bird story might have seemed, It was true. I still couldn't imagine how they had planned to jump from a bird to something as complex as a human, but perhaps that lofty aspiration came from their leader, whoever she was.

"So, which one of you, uh, lovely ladiesis Marnie?" Not a single of the women looked like someone familiar with the power necromancy would allow her to wield, so I was genuinely curious.

A mousey older woman with chestnut hair and wearing a frumpy blouse and denim skirt ensemble answered with a strangled croak, "I am." She stepped forward and stuttered out more loudly, "I-I-I am Marnie," as she gestured at herself.

I was pleased; her willingness to step forward would expedite things since I would not have to waste time forcing the information out of the group. I wanted this done since I had personal business waiting. "Excellent. Thank you for coming forward."

The witch nodded in acknowledgement and stood more confidently, perhaps buoyed by my polite tone.

I delivered my ultimatum authoritatively. "Now here's the deal, Marnie. This is the last time your coven convenes."

Marnie's dark eyes narrowed, and I could see I had pissed her off. Everyone else in the room appeared startled and incredulous as I continued, "And before you even _think_ about agreeing and then meeting behind my back, know this –" I smiled rather cockily. "There IS no behind my back. _I. Am. Everywhere._"

I had seen the rage growing on the coven leader's face as I spoke, but I was still surprised when she finally spoke. "Wh-what's in it for me?" she demanded, speaking as if she were genuinely confused by the lack of a counter offer from me. That she would push back was apparently as unexpected to her followers as it was to me; I saw a wave of shock and anxiety ripple around the circle of faces.

_I did not have time for this shit._ Clenching my jaw, I snarled out in my most commanding tone, "I said it was a _deal_, not a negotiation. Lafayette –" I glared at the fry cook as I ground out, "Do. I. _Negotiate_?"

I could feel the little shiver of terror as Lafayette jumped to agree with me. "I'd listen to him, Marnie. He tends to get his way."

"What the fuck now?" A voice muttered from the front of the store. A familiar-looking dark-skinned woman was creeping cautiously towards us, obviously aware she had walked in on some kind of standoff.

For several seconds, Marnie and I stared at each other challengingly. When her eyes flicked briefly away, I thought she was finally about to back down, but I had misinterpreted the decision. Her eyes rose to meet mine again as she lifted her chin defiantly and issued an order with surprising authority: "Join hands."

_Fuck. _ They could _not_ be allowed to cast a spell. I didn't think they could be terribly powerful or they would already have acted against me with magic, but I didn't want to drag this out any longer.

At vamp speed, I rocketed across the room, grabbed Marnie by the throat and snatched her body close to mine. "Why couldn't you just take the deal?" I growled into her ear in a frustrated whisper. As willing as I was to make threats, I had been hoping to avoid actual violence. Now, thanks to her obstinacy, I was going to have to make the point that I was not to be trifled with. In a flash, I sank my fangs into her neck ferociously and the witch shrieked in pain.

Around us, the other coven members gasped in horror and terror and I heard the late-arriving woman curse.

As I drew blood from Marnie, I heard one of the other witches began to chant forcefully, "Elements of the night, elements of the dead, come this way, we call upon ye, we summon ye!" Wherever they were in the room, the other members of the circle began to join hands in clusters and join the chant. The prickle of magic from the group was so faint as to be negligible, so I wasn't terribly concerned about what the elements of the night and the elements of the dead might do to me.

The stake snatched up from a basket of display goods by the female latecomer was a different matter.

Spotting the motion out of the corner of my eye, I threw Marnie towards the other side of the circle and grabbed the woman with the weapon, quickly disarming her and holding her at arm's length, half-sprawled on the floor. Now that I was close enough to her, I recognized her as Lafayette's cousin, Tara, last known to be living in New Orleans under the name Toni or Terri or something like that.

"What have we _here_?" I inquired silkily, my fangs still prominent. At this rate, I wouldn't have been surprised to see Sookie's shifter boss and Alcide Herveaux pop out from behind the store's beaded curtains. Was my Sookie surrounded by would-be-witch friends?

"Oh, shit!" From behind me, I heard Lafayette curse and then his deep baritone joined the chanting, inspired no doubt by the grasp I had on his cousin. Just as I leaned in threateningly, my fangs no doubt looming large in 'Tessa's' sight, I felt something strange.

For just a few seconds, I was no longer in control of my actions. One instant, I was about to sink my fangs into her and the next, I felt myself jerk upwards and away from her. Or rather, felt whatever – whoever – was_ in my body_ jerk upwards and away from her. I – my mind, my consciousness – was just along for the ride, passively watching as my body did what _someone else's will_ pleased.

From _inside_ me.

Just as quickly, the alien presence was gone and I found myself stunned to be back in control of my physical self.

_What the fuck was that? _

As I looked up in confusion, I realized a dark gloom had filled the room and a storm-like wind (_Inside? What the hell?_) had begun to flutter a string of colorful prayer flags overhead. As the currents of air grew stronger and the air blacker, I was vaguely aware that Marnie (_ofthesea ofthesea_) had risen from the floor where I had thrown her and that the chanting of the other witches had fallen silent as they, too, stared, gaping at the thickening atmosphere.

I dropped Lafayette's cousin to the floor as the turbulence gathered overhead and the wind began to lick at my clothes and hair, the outward manifestation of a roiling, powerful magic greater than any I had seen in centuries.

Somehow the little group of Wiccans had gone from nearly non-existent mystical power to a motherfucking magical super cell in moments.

_I. Was. So. Fucked._

Marnie's back suddenly stiffened and the mousy woman began to chant in a strangely clear and compelling Latin. "_Iam tibi impero et praecipio maligne spiritus!_" The other circle members were being affected by the rising energy and I was vaguely aware of expressions of awe and ecstasy as the magical currents continued to swirl around us all. "_Ut confestim hinc a me et summa allata et circulo discedas –_"

I could feel myself losing focus, lost in Marnie's eyes, which were as cold and empty as the Hel of my Viking forefathers. As her voice grew stronger, I almost thought I saw a younger, lovelier face superimposed on the middle-aged witch's and different dark eyes, alight with flames.

"_Absque omni strepito, terrore, clamoreet foetore, absque cine omni damno mei tam animae quam corporis!"_ the voice continued relentlessly. And as it thundered on, I felt myself – everything I had known for more than 1,000 years, everything I felt, everything I _was_ – slip out of me, as unstoppable as the sand that had once upon a time slipped between my childish fingers on a distant Scandinavian beach.

And then _I _was _gone_.

**A/N: Thank you for reading and bearing with the rough ride of a canon story. **


	7. He's Not There

**A/N:** If you followed my story _She's Not There_, you might want to follow the sequel, _He's Not There_, which picks up exactly where _SNT_ left off. The new story will not update as rapidly as the previous one since it is still a work in progress. And my usual disclaimer, since it follows canon: I will not let it get to the ugly parts of season 4, whether that means ending it before certain painful moments or going AU at that point. I promise on my Sooric love. Thanks for reading! XOXOXOX


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